A Wizard, a Boss, and an Enforcer What could go wrong?
by gomenasai-for-everything
Summary: Until being tasked to follow him and getting caught, Hendricks always thought Harry was just a lucky pain in his ass. He discovers that Harry was actually pretty cool, and they become friends, until Gard ruins it by telling him that both he and the Boss have feelings for him. Harry, being Harry, suggests a threesome. They're happy, until a face from Harry's past returns to ruin it
1. Chapter 1

I was at home when Boss called with my new job, and when the call ended, I allowed myself a low groan. Things had been slow lately, yeah, I got that, and I knew he liked to keep me busy, just to make sure I'd stay around, but damn… spying on that fucking wizard? I had better things to do. Like bang my head into walls, or take cleavers to my hands. I mean, yeah, usually when things got all quiet like this, he made them loud again, and violently so, but still. Still. I could be doing a lot of other things. But the Boss' orders are the Boss' orders, and hey, we might be friends from way back, but way back was a long damn time ago, and now… now he's got other worries too, and I don't want to be one of them, so I do what he says and I do it well. If that meant following a wizard with gangly spider legs and sheepdog hair around, then I'd damn well follow a gangly spider-legged wizard with sheepdog hair around. I shrugged on a worn leather coat, the one I'd gotten at sixteen with the patch in the elbow because I fell off a motorcycle once and happened to land there. I had a scar in the same place, now, where the asphalt had torn off so much skin, but it sure as hell wasn't the worst scar I had.

Anyway, I grabbed my keys, too, and walked outside, slamming the door to my apartment behind me. Boss had offered me a nicer place to stay, but I'd been living there for years, and dangerous as it is, I'm kind of a creature of habit. I like my shitty apartment, partly because it's inconspicuous and partly because it's close to campus. I slid into my car, an older model that's small and functional on the city streets, and think for a second how ridiculous I'm going to look, trailing after a Volkswagen Bug that's nearly every color in the rainbow. God, why won't he at least get a new car? If not for himself, then for the people forced to follow him. I heaved another sigh and pulled out into traffic, bobbing and weaving through cars and cabs and trucks and minivans until I was about a block or so from his boardinghouse, then parked the car and climbed out. Now, I'm not exactly the most inconspicuous guy around; I'm at least six feet, red headed, and muscular. People don't miss me, not often, but I'm good at blending in, when I want to. I shoved my hands into my pockets and hunched a little, then made sure to keep my eyes mostly down as I walked, until I reached his apartment building. That bug of his sat obviously in the front, but there was another car beside it, which was a little weird. As far as I knew, the other tenants in that building were all older, and most of them had some relative or another that drove them when they needed it. Well, Dresden wouldn't see me anyway; his apartment's in the basement.

I crept up towards it, and checked it out as best I could. It was an old car, antique, with a fresh coat of black paint on it, though said paint had flecks of something uncomfortably red splattered through it, and there was a dent in the passenger door. I caught sight of something long and wooden, like the staff I'd seen Dresden carrying but different, half-covered with a blanket in the back seat, and I probably would've been able to see more, if Dresden's door hadn't started rattling. I thanked whatever god was out there that Dresden was no carpenter and hadn't installed his door correctly as I dived behind a bush that was big enough to hide me and peaked through some leaves as Dresden finally got the door open and walked out, a larger man whose dark, graying hair was swept up in a ponytail and who dressed in a gray robe beside him.

His staff was clutched in his hand, and he, too had on a gray robe under his duster. The other man's hand was settled on his neck, loose but obviously there, what I knew was a reminder that if Dresden did something the other guy didn't like, his neck would be snapped before he could cry out one of those fire spells he seemed to like so much. I'd had my hand on enough people in that way to know what it looked like. Dresden, though… he didn't look how he normally looked, when he was being threatened. He lacked that particular wide-eyed defiance he usually had, the flaming, righteous anger, the traces of fear he kept so hidden that only those trained to find it would see it. In their place was mere annoyance, the raw sort that one could only produce after a situation has been repeated too many times to count, and has gotten repetitive enough that the words are known by heart.

"Damn it, Morgan, I'm not going to kick you in the balls and run, I promise. Aren't we supposed to be on the same side or whatever now?" The other man, Morgan, snarled, and I saw, quite suddenly, the sword that was thumping steadily at his side as he walked.

"You receiving the cloak was purely the decision of Captain Luccio, Warlock. I was quite against it, and still hold that you are not worthy of being one of us. Your betrayal, I know, is inevitable." Dresden laughed, deep and throaty and fake. It sounded real enough, sure, but I've seen enough forced laughs to know what they look like. Dresden was laughing to show bravado in the face of danger, like he always did, and even though I'd never met the man beside him, I knew well enough what a dangerous man looked like. I was one myself, just like Boss was, just like my guys were, just like Dresden himself was.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a murdering lying time bomb who, given time and opportunity, would stab every last one of you White Council members in the back, piss on your corpses, and set you on fire. I've heard it often enough, Morgan, I don't think I need to hear it again, not when we're supposed to be working together." The other man stayed stonily silent as he shoved Dresden into the black car, and I went as fast as I could back to mine, staying unseen, and caught up to them easily, though I made sure to stay a few cars behind. They finally pulled to a stop on the shore of Lake Michigan, and Dresden climbed out, unfolding himself like the antique muscle car he'd been in was one of those cute little clown cars you see in a circus. Morgan got out the other side, and I parked a ways back and climbed out myself. "Why'd they need both of us to dispatch a Kelpie anyway?" I heard Dresden ask, but it was a little bit quieter, since I was farther away than I had been at his apartment. The surface of the water shifted suddenly, and about twenty horses with coal black manes and rubbery looking seal-like skin suddenly broke through. What looked like sentient seaweed was braided into their manes and tail, and whipped around threateningly.

Dresden reeled back and brandished his staff, whilst the other man merely shifted into a battle stance and pulled the sword from its sheath. "Oh Hell's fucking Bells," Harry hissed. "Forzare!" About five of the things got flung back over the water; their hooves skimming some and making it splash. I gripped my gun under my jacket, since I found the weight of it comforting.

Morgan stomped a foot, and the ground in front of him reared up and surged out over the wildly thrashing water to grip two of the horse things Dresden had called Kelpie. Dresden flashed the man a tight grin, then shot a lance of flame at one of the things that had gotten out of the water and was coming at Morgan from the side. It caught fire and shrieked pathetically; falling to the earth and rolling desperately, though the flames ate it up. Morgan held a hand towards Dresden and then clenched it like a fist, as more earth rose up, this time to encase one that was coming after Dresden as he dispatched some that stood over the water. Morgan got another grin as Dresden danced around, firing flame and force and wind as Morgan worked in the medium of earth, crushing the things. They seemed to rise endlessly from the water, though, beast after beast, more continuously coming to replace those that died, but finally, finally, finally, they stopped, and the surface of the water stilled. Harry heaved a sigh and laughed, before he collapsed onto the ground, holding his head. Morgan was at his side surprisingly quickly.

"Warden Dresden?" Dresden laughed again.

"Aw, you do care, Morgan! I just knew it! Even after all those times you tried to cut my head off, deep inside you like me! Must be why you saved my life that one time."

"I will not give you CPR again, Warlock, and so I suggest you do not cause yourself to need it this day." Harry grinned, and plopped back, face pointed up at the sky.

"You know you wouldn't let me die yet, Morgan. Council needs manpower too badly. That's the whole reason I got this job anyway, right? And the Regional Commander position." Morgan made a noise low in his throat and held a hand down. Dresden grabbed it and was pulled up to his feet, and they walked towards the car. "Want to grab a drink with me, Morgan? I know we're not best friends or anything, but hey, we just slew an army of Kelpies together, saved a bunch of little kids and unwary sailors and all, and I have a policy about celebrating whenever I do anything good like that. You know, positive reinforcement, trying to stop all that Warlock stuff I've been doing." Morgan grunted, and an actual smile touched his lips for a second before it faded, and a haunted look I hadn't noticed before returned to him. I wondered how long he'd lived, what things he'd seen that were far worse than Kelpies. They got back into the black car and drove off to that bar Dresden hits all the time, Mac's. I followed them inside after waiting about ten minutes, so even if Dresden caught sight of me I could call it coincidence, ordered a beer, and drank it a few tables away from Dresden, keeping my head down the entire time.

"I think, Wizard Dresden, that in a different life, where things had happened not quite as they did, we could have, perhaps, been friends. Had you bought me this beer, of course," I heard Morgan say, his voice a stony rumble. Harry snickered, and took a long pull from his own bottle.

"Mac's ale is the nectar of gods, Morgan. I've known that ever since I moved to this neighborhood, after I got my PI's license." Morgan hummed.

"Yes, boy, I remember the day." Dresden tensed, and stared down into the amber liquid he drank.

"Damn you," he mumbled, and drank deeply. Morgan sighed and closed his eyes.

"It seems you've yet to get over this all, Warden."

"Wonder if it has something to do with the fact that you still think I'm going to kill you?" Dresden's voice was little more than a growl, and he drank deeply again. I watched carefully, having never heard him so openly… angry. He was an emotional man, yeah, I knew that. I'd seen him pissed, throwing flame at everything that moved and some things that didn't, but never this sort of fuming anger. What he was showing now, it was anger that was years in the making, brewed with fear and sadness and hate. The dangerous kind.

"You've yet to prove your innocence to me. A man I trained with and under, one who helped to destroy the necromancer Kemmlar, is dead by your hand. I have heard you say that he was a Warlock, yes, but because of you, both of the ones that could have proved that are dead. If not for Wizard McCoy, you would be long dead, Wizard." Dresden's fists clenched, and his eyes went narrow.

"I stopped the Kelpie from killing you today, when you were distracted. I killed the Shadowman. I stopped the Fairy Queens from going to war and destroying all of us. I stopped the Darkhallow. I don't know what the fuck else you want me to do to prove that when I killed that motherfucker DuMorne, I did it because I had to." I hadn't thought this job would turn up anything, but Boss would be interested in that. Hell, I was interested in that. Morgan's face was cool and blank.

"I have not seen inside you, Warlock, but I fear what I would find. I would not… enjoy killing you, as much as you believe otherwise. A Soul Gaze with you would prove your innocence to me, and yet it may also prove your guilt. I do not want the risk or the burden." Dresden laughed, and it still wasn't real. He looked like he wanted to bury his face in his arm and cry for an hour. God help him, he looked like he could use a hug.

"Fuck you. Stars and Stones, fuck you, Morgan. You hate me just as much as the Merlin does. I know you're both just waiting for the day this damn war ends, so you can find another excuse to kill me, or try to get me killed. I get it, damn it all, I get it. I understand, I promise. Don't worry about it. Tick, tick, tick, right?" Morgan grabbed his arm in a way that couldn't have been painless and jerked Dresden towards him harshly, forced him to stare into his eyes. I'd seen this happen only once before, between Dresden and Boss, and this was just as anticlimactic as that first time. They stared at each other, for a few seconds, then looked away from one another. Dresden didn't blanch this time, though, like he had with Boss, and Morgan didn't smirk like Boss had. He did the opposite, actually, and a frown fixed itself onto his face.

"Dresden, who performed the Soul Gaze on you, prior to your trial?"

"The Merlin himself," Dresden hissed. Morgan actually winced.

"Had I done it myself… Wizard Dresden, I am sorry. I do not know why the Merlin saw that soul as a guilty one, as one that would backslide if no action was taken, but it was a… gross error. I am deeply, deeply sorry, Wizard Dresden, and while I realize that I have no right to your forgiveness… might I buy you another beer?" Dresden was shaking. Harry fucking Dresden was shaking. A tiny, real smile pulled at his mouth, and a sudden shock of a thought stabbed through me; he looked good, when he was smiling. Kind of attractive, in a weird sort of way. It brightened his eyes in funny ways, and softened the angles of his cheeks and jaw, and really… I wondered why he didn't smile more.

"Yeah. Yeah, Morgan. Another beer sounds good, right now. And stop calling me Wizard Dresden. Call me Harry, for once in your fucking life." Morgan nodded, and stood up to walk to the bar while Dresden flopped back into his chair. Damn, but his soul had to have something interesting in it, if both the people I'd seen Soul Gaze with him had weird reactions to it. And Boss' soul just had to be scary as hell. Morgan came back with two more beers and sat one in front of Dresden.

"I realize, Harry, that this is not my place to ask, but have you spoken with the Merlin, about his reasons for not finding you innocent of your charge?"

"What the hell could I have said? I was a scared sixteen year old with a bag over my head. I didn't feel human. Hell, at that point I almost felt like I deserved what was coming to me anyway, because of Elaine." Sixteen. Whatever had happened, it had been when he was sixteen. The guy he was sitting with had apparently put a bag over his head and done unspecified things for an unspecified reason, although apparently the unspecified things would have resulted in Dresden's death. At sixteen. Damn, but Boss would be pissed. His thing with kids can be nigh on psychotic sometimes. Morgan looked away.

"I have always remembered that I did not hear you crying, during your trial. Grown men have shown less composure, when faced with execution. I had… for years, I assumed it a sign of guilt, assumed that the Merlin had seen a monster within you." Dresden smiled and took a pull from the new bottle, his long neck stretching and shifting with the motion. "I do not know why he so singled you out."

"Well, hey, when you find out, how about you give me a call, big guy? I've wondered for years. Stones, I've gone through times where I wondered if maybe he was right and I was slipping. Dark magic is so easy, Morgan, people who have never used it don't understand. I've said it before, easy and fun, just like Legos. I don't know what's in my soul, Morgan. I've never looked and I've never asked. My ex-girlfriend fainted at whatever she saw. A mob boss wanted me to be his pet Wizard after he saw. And you apologized to me. I've got to admit, I'd never thought I'd see this particular day."

"An apology was deserved. You have said before that you felt me an honest man." Dresden snickered.

"Honest, loyal, and fanatic-y to a fault. I like guys like you, Morgan. Always have. I know guys like you aren't going to throw a curveball at me, unlike some people I know. I mean, I can't say I like you personally or anything, not yet, but I like the kind of man you are."

"Not yet? You feel that there is a chance of you eventually liking me personally, after all that has happened?"

"My trust is a funny sort of thing, Morgan. You're a good guy. You hated me because you were supposed to, because the Merlin did, because my mother was known for playing in not exactly light magic. I understand that much, and now you've apologized. Yeah, it'll take some time for me, mostly to get over the fear that I'm going to wake up one morning with my head separated from the rest of me, but I don't hate you. Never have. Hated what you stood for, what you'd done, yeah, but I understand why you are how you are. I've met vanillas who are like you, a lot of them on the force. You get… tired, right? Of seeing all that's bad in the world and knowing there's so little you can really do about it, but still wanting to stop what you can because you have to, because if you don't no one else will." Morgan smiled.

"You are wiser than I thought you." Harry laughed and drained the rest of his beer as he stood.

"Sure I'm not just stupid?"

"At times, are they not one in the same?" Morgan finished his beer as well and stood up too, the two of them walking out of the bar. I followed after them and stopped once more a block from Dresden's apartment, and raced towards it. By the time I arrived, Morgan had already left and Dresden himself was fighting with the door. Just as he pulled it open, however he yelled out.

"Hey, Cujo! If you're going to follow me around, how about you do it where I can see you instead of being a creepy stalker like Johnny." Oh goddamn it. I decided that maybe he was bluffing, that hey, maybe he did that whenever he came home just to snuff out anyone that might have been following him, but as far as I knew, I was the only one he called Cujo. He sighed and stepped away from his door, walked back up the stairs, and came over to my bush. "Cujo, I'm not blind. You're kind of hard to miss, and I've had practice from the other guys Marcone has sent after me anyway." He paused to roll his eyes at me, still crouched there looking up at me, and held out a hand for me to grab and pull myself up. I did. "Hell's Bells, man, what happened anyway? I haven't noticed anyone following me in over a month." A month? Huh. Boss had to be slipping.

"You knew I was here the whole time? Why'd you talk about all that shit you did, then?" He shrugged and walked over to his door, slipping inside. He stood out of the way, and I took it for the invitation it was. "And why the hell are you letting me in your house?"

"Whoa there, Cujo, too many questions at once might make you overheat." He shouldered his door closed roughly, and dropped onto his couch like a stone. "Anyway, I invited you in because I'm in a good mood, and feeling generous. Also, there's literally no way you could find out much of anything about what you heard. All record of that was destroyed, except in one place, and no one but a pretty high ranking Wizard could get it from there, so I figured there wasn't much danger. Besides, I was pissed off and not thinking quite as clearly as I could've been." I'd really like to get through one damn meeting with Dresden where he doesn't insult my intelligence. "You want something to drink? You didn't finish your beer at Mac's. I've got some of his stuff in the fridge, as long as you promise not to tell him I'm chilling it. I've got Coke too, if you don't want alcohol." Well that was weirdly polite of him.

"Coke is good." He nodded and stood, gesturing for me to sit as he wandered into the small attached kitchen and opened up his icebox to pull out two bottles of Coke. I noticed that his apartment was a lot neater than I expected, and saw a bamboo sword cane settled on the mantel of his fireplace.

"Here you go, man. Also, don't go around thinking I like you now, or anything like that. I'm just bound to follow Old World hospitality laws, and that includes offering all invited guests food and drink." Oh. I probably should've guessed that Dresden being polite to me because he wanted to was too much to hope for.

"You and that guy you were with seemed to get along pretty badly, there at the start." Dresden shrugged and reclined back on the old ratty couch. It creaked under our combined weight, and I looked at it nervously. Dresden snickered.

"Morgan's and my relationship has always been a little tense. He's Lawful Good, I'm Chaotic Good, you know. My couch isn't going to suddenly collapse, by the way. Hell's Bells, I've had it since I moved into this place, and Thomas slept on it for over a year." That was sort of a shock. That guy had slept on the couch? I'd thought he and Dresden were… sharing a bed, I guess is the least disgusting way of putting it. I didn't know why, but I never much liked the idea of Dresden fucking. It just didn't track, somehow. I'd never understood it, and while I knew he'd once had a girlfriend, that Rodriguez woman, and while it was pretty obvious that they'd had sex at least once, sexual and Dresden were two words that just didn't go together for me.

"Thought you and him were together." Dresden actually busted out into a deep belly laugh and nearly spilled his soda all over the floor.

"Stars, even the mafia thought that? Christ, I could understand the CPD, because of Butters thinking it, and the fact that they gossip like high school girls, but the mafia? Really? We were never together, okay? Thomas was just being a dick once, and that was why Butters started to think that. The CPD thinking it was my fault though. I got caught in Thomas' new apartment once, and I had to do something to avoid getting kicked out. Playing the scorned boyfriend was the best I could come up with on short notice. I did get that Julie Newmar poster over there from Murphy because of that, though. She didn't think I'd actually put it up." I had to laugh a little, and gulped down some of the Coke. It was icy cold, and hell, that icebox worked pretty fucking well.

"Damn. Boss was freaking out, for a while, thinking he'd managed to miss something like that."

"Missed something like my sexuality? Why the hell was he looking into that anyway?" he asked, and I thought maybe I'd said too much, and hey, even I wasn't particularly sure why Boss cared so much about that, as he grabbed a leash from a small hook on his wall. "Mouse! Time for your walk!" The apartment's single interior door opened, and what looked like a small, really fuzzy pony wandered out.

"Thought you had a cat, not a horse." He grinned over at me as he clicked on the leash.

"I prefer to call him a wooly mammoth, but I guess horse works. I have a cat too, but he's out on his daily ramble. He'll be back by dinner."

"You let a cat wander loose in this neighborhood?" Dresden shrugged.

"Mister's a big boy. He can look after himself. The only night I keep him in is Halloween. A cat isn't meant to be cooped up, you know? It's in their nature to wander. I'd feel like an ass if I forced him to stay inside all the time, even after I saved him." I'd seen Dresden's cat. It didn't look like something that would need saving. "Curious about that, Cujo? I found him within the first year I'd moved to Chicago, the night I got a job with Ragged Angel. He was all torn up, but he still clawed the hell out of me when I picked him up. He was bleeding out really badly though, and I didn't want him to die, so I ignored it and brought him home with me. The hotel I was staying in nearly kicked me out for that, since his blood and mine got everywhere, but still. I rescued him, and he's stayed around me ever since. Anyway, I assume you want to come along on mine and Mouse's walk? We're just going down to the park for a while." I nodded and stood.

"Sounds fine." I downed the rest of the Coke and tossed the bottle into a trashcan he had set up, then followed him out and fell into step beside him as he started walking. I thought on what he'd said, a few seconds before. Ragged Angel. I'd heard of that before, but I couldn't remember what they did, nor could I remember if they were even still in business. It sounded like some kind of a brothel to me, but… it was Dresden. No way in hell would he do that kind of work. Even if he had apparently been living in a hotel when he moved here, and most hotels in Chicago were either high class or seedy. That wasn't to say none of them were in the middle ground, but the ones like that were, at times, pretty hard to find. I looked around as we walked, and a few people spared Dresden a wave, but most ignored us, possibly partly out of fear for the ridiculously scaled dog that was dragging Dresden around. I almost wanted to laugh at how well the damn dog matched him, although if I was remembering correctly his cat was a giant thing too.

"Hey, Dresden?" I asked as we turned into the gate for a small park that served as a refuge for nature in Dresden's neighborhood. A bunch of other dogs were running around without leashes in the grass, and I assumed it was a dog park as Dresden unhooked Mouse and let him run off. He actually looked a little surprised when the dog bolted and immediately started up a game with a far smaller dog, but I didn't pay that much mind.

"Yeah?"

"I've heard of some place called Ragged Angel before. What is it?"

"It's an investigations company that specializes in finding lost kids. I worked there for about three years, for the owner. He was a pretty good friend of mine, but it's been a long time since I've seen him. He still owns the place, though." I wasn't paying all that much attention when he and I moved to sit on a bench, so I blame that for why my thoughts slipped out of my mouth.

"Oh. I was thinking it was a brothel or something." Dresden spluttered expectedly and then snickered unexpectedly.

"Well, you're actually right. There is a brothel by the same name, and I did work there too. That's how me and Nick, the guy who owns the investigations company, met. He came in to hire one of the girls, and saw me kicking ass, so he invited me to work for him."

"You worked in a brothel?" He grinned.

"I had a lot of jobs, before I started my business. Hell, I spent a month or three dancing with seniors. I wasn't one of the worker workers though, if that's what you were thinking. I was hired on to protect the girls and guys that were." Harry Dresden, bodyguard for high-end prostitutes. Never would've guessed it, considering I'd always figured he'd have something against people like that. Some kind of moral whatever.

"Wouldn't have expected that out of you." He shrugged.

"Money was good and I got to keep people safe. Chicago's a hard city to pay your way in, you know? My guardian, when I left to come here, gave me two hundred dollars, and I spent most of that on the train ticket and the rest for a few nights at a hotel. I had to get a job damn quick, and if you remember some of the stuff that's happened to your phone on occasion, from being near me, you can probably guess why a lot of jobs were out of the question."

"How'd you get hooked up with work like that?"

"Luck, mostly. I'd just gotten fired from a job as a waiter, because I spilled hot coffee on some business type who'd been coming in for about a week and bugging the hell out of me, and I was going back to my hotel. I saw a woman with some guy who was trying to tear her top off, and got him off of her and sent him running. Turns out he'd just run into the building, grabbed her, and ran out, since they didn't have any security there. I escorted her back, and got offered the job." Some hospitality Dresden showed at work, if he spilled hot coffee on any annoying customer. I'd worked in food service before; some days, half the customers that came in were annoying as hell. Spilling coffee, while it would've been fun, was not something I considered doing to fix that. Whatever, though, it seemed like I'd have plenty of things to tell Boss, and hey, if I was lucky, I wouldn't have to keep following him. I glanced over at him and watched as he smiled sweetly at his prancing dog. Up close, his real smile looked even better. I stared at him without realizing I was doing it, and he quirked up his eyebrows at me suddenly. I looked away, and hoped to god I wasn't blushing. "You know, you never answered my question earlier, Cujo."

"What question?"

"Why in hell does Johnny boy give a damn about my sexuality?" Why would I ever think he'd let that go? It was stupid, to think that Dresden would make something easy.

"How should I know? Boss is my friend, yeah, and I like him and all, but it isn't my job to ask questions like that. He's sort of a control freak, though, so for all I know that's part of it. He feels like he needs to know everything about everyone, and he hardly knows shit about you. Him thinking he'd missed something like that, which would be obvious, chances are it threw him off balance." Dresden nodded.

"Well, if it'll satisfy curiosity, I do look at men, sometimes. Never actually slept with one, or gone out with one, but I can't say I wouldn't be open to the idea." And so my vision of a prudish Dresden was stomped into oblivion, and thrown into the flames. He caught sight of my expression and sighed. "Look, I'm a Wizard. If nothing untoward happens, which, admittedly, it probably will, I'll live for another five hundred years or more. Sexuality isn't something I figure I should be concerned over. It's a relatively minor issue in the grand scheme of life, and besides, I'm not exactly a Casanova, you know? I'm thirty three, and I've had two girlfriends in my entire life." Damn, I'd done better than him, and in less time. The whole 'just two girlfriends' thing fit better with how I'd long imagined him, much better than the 'oh, I'd fuck a guy, if the opportunity arose' idea he'd brought into my head. Of course, I'd only known about one of those girlfriends. I wondered where the other came in. Mouse came wandering up suddenly, a slobbery disk held tight in his jaws. Dresden sighed. "Where'd you get that, Mouse?" The dog almost seemed to grin around the Frisbee and bounded off where he'd come from. Dresden chased after him, and I followed.

By the time I'd caught up, Dresden was panting and handing the slippery red disk back to a sweetly smiling woman who held the small dog Mouse had been playing with in her arms.

"What an… interesting breed you have there. What is he?" She was smiling softly, obviously found Dresden attractive. I paused a few feet away, wondering how he'd deal with that. He laughed a little.

"Yeah, interesting's a good word. He's at least a quarter wooly mammoth, I think. I'm also pretty sure he's a distant relative of the saber toothed tiger I happened to pick up one day. He eats me out of house and home, but I love him. His name's Mouse." She giggled cutely and shifted her own dog on her hip.

"Good name, for him. What's yours?" He blinked.

"Harry, nice to meet you, Miss…" She smiled.

"Call me Sarah," she said, and he nodded.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah. I'm Harry Dresden." She smiled, and seemed to be about to say more, when Dresden gave her a small crooked grin and bent down to reattach Mouse's leash. "Anyway, it's about time for me to get Mouse home. That saber toothed tiger I mentioned, Mister, will probably be home by now, and he gets upset at me if I make him wait outside for me. I'll see you around, okay?" And so he turned her down and didn't even appear to notice he'd done it, though her expression, which had been sweetly hopeful, was now downtrodden. When he got over to where I was standing, though, a look of understanding dawned on her and she giggled again, setting her dog on the ground and tossing the Frisbee for it. Oh damn it. Apparently I would now get added to the illustrious list of people Harry Dresden was mistaken as gay for, which, as far as I knew, was pretty short, with just that Thomas guy and now me, but still. Harry Dresden, apparently, projected gay all over the place to everyone he met. Including me, somehow, and damn it, that woman was pretty cute. I glared at the ground as we walked back towards Dresden's apartment, and Dresden smirked at me. "You know, Cujo, you can go ahead home. I wasn't planning on leaving the apartment anymore today. I'm all stocked up on groceries, nothing horribly dangerous is making plans to take its shot at me, you know. It's a pretty normal day, for me. I promise if Johnny asks I'll tell him you were shoved up my ass all day, never got a moment's peace from you, you know. All that stuff." And after what just happened, he was going to say I was shoved up his ass. Of course he was. I knew he obviously didn't realize what the woman had thought, but still. Damn him.

"Dresden, I'm not going to risk Boss finding out about me lying to him. That'd be pretty damned stupid of me." I also found myself not exactly wanting to leave, although I didn't know why. I'd actually sort of enjoyed Dresden's company, that day. He shrugged.

"Whatever, Cujo. If you want to hang around, I won't stop you. Like I said, I'm in a good mood today." He went down the stairs towards his door first, and suddenly stumbled into the thing. A loud meow assaulted my ears. "Hey, Mister. I know, I should be ashamed of myself, not being here to let you into your house and serve your dinner, but the dog needed walking, and who else was supposed to do it? I know Thomas forgot half the time anyway, but when he remembered to do it, having him here was really convenient." I looked down the stairs and saw Dresden's giant bob tailed cat sitting by his legs, having just rammed into the back of his knees. Dresden finally got the door open, and the cat walked in first, then Dresden unhooked his dog's leash and let it in, and walked in himself with me behind him. I shut the door for him as he walked into the kitchen, his cat behind him, and poured food into a punch bowl and a smaller, plain food dish, then filled up two water dishes. Mister started eating from the smaller food bowl whilst Mouse immediately dug into the punch bowl. "Help yourself to something out of the fridge if you want it, Cujo. I don't know what you eat, so I don't know if I've got anything you like. You can always order pizza if you want. The number's written down somewhere. Flickum Bicus," he grunted, waving a hand, and the fireplace lit up, along with several candles that were scattered around the room.

"More Old World hospitality?" He laughed a little.

"Yeah. During winter, the hearth must be kept in flame, and the room lit once the sun starts to set. This all got drilled into me pretty young, so I kind of can't help but follow it at this point, even with things I don't have to follow it with, like you."

"Oh, so I'm not that special, huh?" He kept up his grin. I found myself wanting to make him smile more often.

"Well, you are vanilla. Vanilla mortals forgot those laws a long time ago, before I was even born. My old guardian was around when they were still in play, though. Of course, he was also around when Wizards curdled milk instead of causing mass technological suicide, so he couldn't have been that great of a host at any point. Anyway, only beings of the Nevernever continue to expect that those laws be followed. The Fay are really serious about it. You invite a Fay into your house and don't offer them food or drink, you can honestly count yourself cursed or dead." I nodded. Gard had told me something similar, once or twice.

"Did you learn those laws at the same time you learned how to dance with seniors?" He took his seat by me on the couch.

"Yeah, actually. I started learning ballroom dancing and courtesy laws at ten."

"From the guardian you keep mentioning?" He shook his head and his smile fell. I felt stupid. I'd long known that Dresden was an orphan. Chances were he wouldn't want to have casual conversations about his time in the system.

"No. I learned all that stuff from my first steady guardian. The man I've been mentioning, Ebenezer, was my second steady guardian, even though I was only with him for two years. The first guy, I was with him for six." He learned the laws at ten, from a man he was with for six years. Sixteen. The age when whatever upset him so much earlier occurred.

"Sorry for asking. I forget, sometimes, that you were an orphan. You probably don't like talking about that kind of thing." He gave me a knife-edge smile that made his eyes glitter in the firelight.

"No big deal, Cujo. I don't talk about my past all that much, so people get curious about it. I've only told my best friends about my whole childhood, from when my dad died to when I moved here, but a lot of people, like you and probably Marcone, have ended up picking up bits and pieces of it. Bits and pieces of a story make people want the whole thing."

"Understanding of you." His shoulder shifted in what might have been a half shrug as he leaned back against the couch and gazed up at his ceiling.

"Just don't see a point in freaking out over it. So you asked about something that made me a little uncomfortable, who cares? I'm sure someone's asked you a question you didn't want to answer before. I've got issues, yeah. Who doesn't?"

"True enough, I guess. Hey, what were you talking about curdling milk?" He sat up and stretched a little.

"Wizards like me have only been destroying delicate machinery for about thirty years or so, ever since the big technology boom in the 80's. Before that, Wizards would curdle milk, and before that, they'd cause fire to burn different colors, and before that probably something else, but there's no record of it."

"Really?" That was actually… pretty cool. I hadn't heard of anything like that before, even though I'd been doing a lot of research on magic, ever since I found out it was real, although it had been growing harder and harder to sift through what was fact and what was bullshit. It got pretty annoying, when Gard wasn't around or didn't feel like answering questions for me.

"Yup. That last one was pretty inconvenient, too, since that happened during the era where witch hunts were a favorite pastime."

"Never understood those."

"What, witch hunts?"

"Yeah. You Wizards, haven't you always kind of hidden what you were doing? Except for you, I mean. From what I've seen, you're sort of like a freak among freaks." That made him laugh again.

"I guess I am. Anyway, that hidden nature of magic was part of the reason for the hunts. People assumed that Wizards were doing evil stuff, so they thought, hey, let's get rid of them, before they kill all of us. Some of them just happened because someone said one of their enemies was practicing magic, though, and that got a whole slew of accusations coming in. There were also the ones that did it for religious reasons."

"Religious?" I'd never been much on religion, myself. Sure, I believed, mostly, but going to church, praying… it had never been my thing. I did my best to do as much good as I could, but that was all. Boss still went to Confession every now and then, though. He looked at me, seeming a little confused.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Exodus 22:18. That particular verse has been fucking with us poor Wizards pretty much ever since Exodus was written."

"Nice to see you can quote it verse and all then. Guess you don't believe?" He gave a half smile and shook his head.

"Nope. The Big Guy's up there. If I didn't know Michael I probably wouldn't believe, because of everything that happens to me, but Michael… he's a Knight of the Cross. That power he's got, it's from faith. God's the one that leads him, and he always shows up where he's needed. I just think the Guy Upstairs plays favorites, and I'm just not one of those favorites. Michael tells me all the time that God loves me, that I'm a good man who's going to heaven, even with that verse in there, but hey, the Bible was translated by humans. There's no way in hell it went through that without getting in some very human prejudices."

"Has anyone ever used that verse on you?" This was probably an uncomfortable direction for the conversation to take too, but hell, I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, Stars, yeah. I've had people who went so far as to get my house number to tell me that, when they thought telling me over my office phone just wouldn't have as much impact. It stopped being frightening after the first fifty or so times it happened. It'd be nice if I had a secretary or something to field the calls, but hey, I'm broke. Besides, it was funny, the first time Thomas ended up answering one of those calls. He ended up sitting up all night, thinking someone was coming after me or something. Hell's Bells, I had one guy vandalize my car once, before I started vandalizing it myself." Like anything could make that car any worse. I honestly felt worse for the poor vehicle than I did Dresden himself, in a situation like that. I mean, hell, if it was fixed up it'd be a pretty nice antique car. I sighed and rubbed my head as the rotary phone he had on the small table by the couch rang noisily. He leaned over to get it, and without my volition, my eyes trailed over the stretch of his back, his thin form elongating nicely, gracefully, in a way that he had to have practiced because there was no way in the world someone of his height could pull a move like that naturally and not have it look ridiculous. "Dresden," he answered, and then went wide eyed. I found out why when he shoved the phone into my hands.

"Mr. Hendricks."

"Hey, Boss. What's up?" I decided being calm was the best way to deal with this, because Boss sounded pissed, although I didn't know why.

"Might I ask, Mr. Hendricks, why you are sitting in Mr. Dresden's apartment when I asked you to tail him for the day?" I winced.

"Sorry, Boss. He caught me. Said something about how you'd sent guys a lot more surreptitious than me after him, so he'd gotten used to looking for people following him. Sorry." I heard him hum.

"And you remained in his home after you were discovered because?"

"He invited me. Said I could come with him for the day, go wherever he was going, all that." Boss sighed.

"Alright. Forgive me for overreacting, Nathan. Today has been… trying, to say the least. Please report to my office, if you wouldn't mind it." I let out the breath I was holding and nodded even though he couldn't see it.

"Sure thing, Boss. I'll be there as soon as I can." I hung up the phone and handed it back to Dresden, watching for a few seconds as his cat wandered in and sprawled over his lap. He petted it absentmindedly, and his dog came in after the cat to lie on his feet. It was a ridiculous sight, giant Dresden and his giant pets sitting on that tiny couch in that tiny apartment. Dresden didn't do things by halves, I had to give him that much.

"Everything alright in mobsterland? Ooh, did the Evil Villain Superstore refuse to sell you guys more dark sedans? Did Marcone's copy of the Evil Overlord List get torn?" That ripped a shocked laugh out of me, and I shook my head.

"Business calls. See you around, Dresden." He raised the hand that wasn't raking through the cat's fur in a wave, and I left, going quickly back to my car and wondering, for a minute, why Boss had been upset to begin with. I'd always figured he'd be happy, if I or anyone else in our organization made nice with Dresden, since it meant he'd probably be more likely to join up with us, and that was one of Boss' goals regarding the Wizard, right? I tried not to think too much as I climbed into my car and drove off towards Boss' office, but I always think. I can't really help it, honestly, but it's part of the reason why Boss likes having me around. He's got a few buttons that, if pushed, make it hard for him to think clearly, so I do it for him, those times. The more I looked at it, the more I thought maybe Dresden had become one of those things. I pulled into the parking lot, flashed my ID badge to some security guy, and walked up to Boss' office, feeling the wards Gard had weaved shift and open to the amulet in my inside jacket pocket, beside my gun. I knocked quietly on his door once I reached it.

"Come in," he called, and I opened the door as quietly as I could before stepping in, just in case he was working on something. He wasn't. He looked up at me and smiled in a way that was reminiscent of when we were younger, when we'd just met. "Nathan, hello."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Boss," I said, and took a seat in my own desk beside his.

"Did you learn anything in your foray with Dresden? Perhaps why things have been so quiet recently?" Since Boss had become a Freeholding Lord, whatever that really was, he'd been a lot more concerned with the supernatural goings on of Chicago, and while a quiet month or two would've been welcomed, once upon a time, now it just makes him antsy. I nodded and powered on my laptop.

"I think so, yeah. When I got to Dresden's place this morning, he was leaving with some guy, called him Morgan. They went to Lake Michigan and killed a bunch of things Dresden called Kelpies. They were both wearing gray robes, too, which I thought was kind of weird, for Dresden at least. I've never seen him in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt, or a suit, that one time." Boss actually looked shocked.

"Mr. Dresden is a Warden? I'd had no idea." Come to think of it, I had heard them talking about that, for a few seconds. What had Dresden called himself? A Regional Commander?

"I guess so. I think I heard Dresden call himself a Regional Commander once, while he and that guy were arguing. Seemed like they had some kind of bad blood between them. Morgan kept calling Dresden Warlock. Even still, they went out for a drink afterwards. They looked like they were at least tolerating each other, but Morgan mentioned something or another and Dresden got real pissed. More pissed than I've ever seen him. I think Dresden might have killed someone, at some point, some guy named DuMorne, and maybe someone else, too, but I don't know who. From what I could put together, it seemed like that Morgan guy had been pissed about it, and brought Dresden to a trial. Dresden was sixteen at the time, was saying something about a bag being put over his head, and Morgan mentioned how he hadn't heard Dresden crying and had taken it for guilt. Morgan got him into one of those Soul Gaze things and apologized for whatever had happened though, so I assume Dresden was in the right. They left on good terms with one another, but Dresden caught me when they got home." I didn't add in that apparently Dresden had known I was there the entire time, but still. Some things Boss didn't need to know. He nodded, once.

"Anything else?"

"Maybe. The guy he killed might have been one of the people who adopted him, but I'm not sure. He said he got his first steady guardian at ten and his second at sixteen, a guy named Ebenezer. He also said that he worked for three years at an investigations company called Ragged Angel, said they specialized in finding missing kids. You might want to look into it, see if you can support the business the guy who owns it is doing or something. Oh, and get this; Dresden met the owner of that company, Nick, because he came into a brothel, also called Ragged Angel, that Dresden was working in. Dresden also had a job dancing with seniors and another waiting tables, and he lived in a hotel when he first moved to Chicago. He's also apparently been having trouble with people calling him and quoting an Exodus verse at him, and he and that guy he was living with for a while were never in an intimate relationship. Oh, and you might want to look into something called Old World hospitality. Dresden had it drilled into him, when he was younger, and now he follows it by habit. He says it's still important to supernatural beings though." Boss actually looked a little shocked at all the information I was spewing, and I didn't quite know whether to be offended or pleased.

"Brothel?" I'd kind of figured that would be what stuck out to him. I nodded.

"Yeah, I thought the same thing. He said he was there as a bodyguard though, that the Nick guy walked in while he was beating someone up and asked if he wanted a job." Boss nodded, and steepled his fingers under his chin.

"Would you mind looking up those names you mentioned for me? I'm afraid I have paperwork to do, and you've made it quite clear that it would be beneficial to me to stop putting it on your desk." I snickered and nodded.

"Sure thing, Boss. I'll find what I can, but when I asked Dresden about the stuff from when he was sixteen, he wouldn't say much of anything, and said that only a high ranking Wizard could get the records." Boss waved a hand.

"Mr. Dresden easily could have been trying to deter you, or me, from discovering what it is he seems to be attempting to hide. Search thoroughly, and if nothing is found, then perhaps Ms. Gard will be of assistance. I believe she has acquaintances on the White Council, she could likely get us this information." That was probably true. Gard knew people, knew things, that kind of freaked me out on the best of days and scared me shitless on the others. She was a smart woman, certainly, beautiful, and talented, but intimidating as hell. With magical questions, I was pretty sure I'd prefer to go to that one weird, gawky wizard who lives in a basement apartment in one of the bad sides of town.

"Alright," I said, and started looking. I eventually managed to find out in which state Dresden was put into the system in (Which was a lot harder than I thought. For a kid who became an orphan at six, Dresden had lived in a lot of different states), and get ahold of the adoption records of that state, which happened to be Vermont, from the year Dresden had turned ten. I then discovered that all records of said adoption had been destroyed by an unnamed thief in 1990, the year Dresden would've turned sixteen. Damn it. "Boss, he was telling the truth. His adoption record is perfect up until 1984, the year he turned ten, and from there on a bunch of stuff got stolen or destroyed."

"Is there any record of the name, then? DuMorne?" I checked that, and found nothing, not even a birth certificate, although I supposed there was no guarantee he was even born in Vermont, or even lived there, actually, and without a first name or a date of birth there wasn't much else I could do.

"Nothing."

"Check the Ragged Angel Investigations company then, and also, if you can, the brothel as well." I did so, and easily pulled up a website for Ragged Angel Investigations. Not Wizard based then. I pulled up a new screen and, just as easily, discovered mentions of the Ragged Angel brothel, and discovered where it was run from.

"Got it, Boss. Ragged Angel Investigations, run by Nicholas Christian. Looks like he and Dresden were under suspicion for kidnapping a kid named Faith Astor once, before you took over, but it looks like she actually just ran away, and the parents had been embarrassed, so they accused them of taking her even though they hired them. Faith Astor ran off again later, looks like, when she turned eighteen, and ended up starting her own business. Seems to be pretty successful herself, now. Anyway, Mr. Christian's company looks like it's got a good reputation. He's got a good track record for finding kids, but it was at its peak when Dresden was working with him, can't imagine why." I got a little smile in return for that

"It is, indeed, beyond comprehension. And the brothel?"

"It's near where the Levee used to be. One of the few hold-outs from back when the area was nothing but pool halls and brothels. There's actually a whole section of this website here devoted to them. Looks like they're pretty high quality, password protected and everything, tucked into an alley."

"Is there a number, for them?" I shook my head.

"Nah. There's mentions of some of these guys' favorite girls. Oh, you know the man here. You can probably give him a call; call in a favor to get the number."

"Who is it?"

"Arnoldo Ponte. Number should be in your phone log." Boss did so quickly and came out with the number of the place easily, although I had no idea why he wanted it. If he wanted women, there were enough of them working his own places, and same with men, if he happened to be in that sort of mood. He called the number shortly after seeing it, and arranged a meeting with the owner. I thought maybe that after hearing of its popularity he wanted to buy the place, make it part of his domain or something. I couldn't always figure out what his plans were. Couldn't do it most of the time, actually, but I'd long known he did only what he thought was best. He asked for the investigation company's number, and I gave him that too, although he asked that I made that call. I did so. The voice that answered the phone was gruff, but friendly all the same.

"Ragged Angel Investigations, Nicholas Christian speaking. I specialize cases of missing children, divorces, and lost or stolen objects, but I will perform other services, so long as they're legal."

"Hello, Mr. Christian. My name is Nathan Hendricks. I'm calling on behalf of John Marcone. I'd like to set up a meeting with you, to discuss an offer for assistance in your work." There was a notable pause on the other end.

"I do legitimate work, Mr. Hendricks. I've never crossed anyone in your profession in my life, as far as I know. I've got no need for trouble." I sighed.

"I realize that, Mr. Christian. I don't want to cause you trouble, but private investigators don't exactly make a fortune anymore. I, and my boss, support what you're doing for those kids. We'd just like to provide you with a little monetary assistance, no price so long as you keep doing what you're doing." Another pause.

"I'll meet with you, if Mr. Marcone is there too, to discuss details. I'm not going to fall into some kind of trap. I'm not that hard up; I've been living on what I've got now for years, and I can keep on doing it. Tomorrow, three o'clock. Sound good?" Well, I now at least knew where Dresden didn't obtain his stalwart moral stance against taking money from the outfit.

"Of course. Mr. Marcone and I will be there." I hung the phone up as Boss glanced at me.

"Making plans for me again, Mr. Hendricks?" He was smiling, though, so I knew he wasn't really all that upset.

"If I didn't, you'd never get anything done." He laughed.

"Quite true. Well, when will that meeting be?"

"Tomorrow at three." He nodded and scribbled something down. "Good. And our meeting with the other Ragged Angel will be this evening at seven, so that we aren't interfering with peak business hours." I glanced at the clock and looked at him incredulously.

"You arranged a meeting that's that far away from this office for one hour from now?" He shrugged.

"I had assumed you could get me there." I growled out a curse and stood up stiffly.

"Maybe. If we leave now and the traffic is light." We ran out of the office together, and managed to walk up to the door, marked only with a mostly faded angel wing, two minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. Boss knocked rhythmically, and the door creaked open to reveal the guy that had obviously taken Harry's old job.

"Mr. Marcone?" he asked softly, and Boss nodded.

"Yes. I'm here for a meeting with the owner of this establishment. I was told to tell you that the rose garden needed tending." The guy stepped out of the way and invited us inside, then led us down a long hallway decorated in pretty shades of purple and blue, and into a small beige office that didn't quite fit with what I'd seen of the rest of the building. An older woman sat on the other side of the desk, her hair pulled back and held up with chopsticks, a pen being twirled around her fingers and a stack of papers in front of her. She granted a smile to the guard as she waved him off, and then held out one hand, which was decorated only with a thin golden bangle, for Boss to shake. He did so, and then pressed a light kiss to the back of it. She smiled and laughed softly.

"Your title of Gentleman is well-earned, Mr. Marcone. I must say, however, that I'd have never imagined you paying a visit to my humble little place here." Boss put on his business smile and sat, allowing me to take my usual spot behind him, hulking like the enormous guard dog so many people assumed me to be.

"It comes well-recommended, Ms. Belle, but I'm not here to partake in your services. I've heard, actually, that you and I may have a mutual friend." She kept up her own smile, but it was just as stiff, as formally polite, as the Boss'. She'd had practice dealing with people too, and if I had to take a guess she had a call button for that guard within arm's reach and, chances were, a gun in a desk drawer.

"Really? I don't believe we normally run in the same circles, Mr. Marcone. The clients I cater to aren't nearly as well-off as your own." Her eyes were hard and frozen as ice. If Boss had come to buy this place from her, I didn't want to think of how quickly she'd put us out on our asses, and I could tell from a glance that she was the type who placed her workers in high regard, the type who took any threat to their safety as a personal insult. I could see why she'd been so quick to hire Dresden, but hey, maybe there was something else to it, too. It seemed that was what Boss had come here to talk about anyway. My mind was assaulted with an image of Dresden giving a come hither smile, long legs spread, eyes coy and glinting with that same joke that only he knew that I always saw whenever I looked at his face. I shook my head as though I could shake away the thought, and it faded as quickly as it had come, leaving me wondering why in hell it had showed up in the first place. Maybe I was the one who needed to partake of this establishment's services, if I was getting that desperate. It had been a while, after all.

"Perhaps not, but you haven't seen this man in quite some time, I believe. He was called Harry Dresden?" Her eyes lit up too quickly for her to control right away, but they faded back quickly enough.

"Yes, he was in my employ for a time. Might I ask why you're asking about him?" Ms. Belle questioned, her arms crossed over her chest.

"As I've said, he's something of a friend of mine, and, at the moment, I fear for his safety. He has had numerous hits called on him, recently, and I'd like to get to the bottom of it. I discovered that he once worked for you, shortly after he migrated to Chicago, and supposed this would be a good place to start." Well, Boss wasn't lying, not exactly. Hits came in on Dresden every other week or so, because of some stupid thing he'd gotten tangled up in, some deal he'd ruined, some object he'd returned, some crook he got put away. Boss dealt with them, I knew, and they'd actually lessened some recently. Boss was playing for something besides Dresden's safety, but from the look of things, those words were going to open Ms. Belle right up for some questioning.

"Stupid boy. I knew he'd get himself into trouble, if he got tangled up with old Nicholas. I promise you, though; he did nothing here that would cause a thing like that." I finally noticed a southern twang hiding underneath her words, effortlessly hidden except when emotion was brought to the surface. "I looked after him like he was one of my girls, even though he was just a bodyguard for them. Very sweet boy, always polite. So scrawny he didn't look a day over fifteen, though he swore up and down he was nearly twenty-one, and his ID claimed the same, but those are easy to fake. Still, he seemed to need the work, and he'd saved one of my girls, so I gave him the job. All the girls were devastated when he left to work for Nicholas, and I must say, I was too."

"He was a bodyguard then, and not a… worker?" Boss asked, even though I'd told him Dresden said he'd never done that. The woman took on a small smile.

"He was only a bodyguard, I'd swear on it. I offered him a place as one of mine many times, but he never took it. Said he'd not make me any money that way. I told him he most definitely would, that he'd be something of an acquired taste, but when anyone acquired it… he could have established quite the customer base, I'm sure of it. Any of my girls and a great many of my boys would have been quite willing to train him up, but he never took my offer up. Now, Mr. Marcone, you're not some jealous boyfriend, are you? I've had to deal with those with some of my girls before, and a few of my boys, but certainly never for an old bodyguard." I choked. Boss just smiled. I'd seen Boss looking at Dresden before, kind of, but the thought of them actually being together, doing something together, upset me more than I would've thought it would.

"Simply a concerned friend, Ms. Belle. He never did anymore work for you, after he left with Mr. Christian?" She smiled and shook her head.

"No. We will still meet occasionally for a meal, or a glass of wine, but I've not seen him in quite some time now. Do tell him to drop by for a visit, the next time you see him." Boss nodded, dropped another kiss on the back of her hand, and we bid her goodbye.

"Boss?" I asked once we got back into our car.

"Yes, Nathan?"

"What was that all about anyway? The number of hits on Dresden has been reducing. Why did you tell her that?"

"To get her to talk. If Mr. Dresden's safety was on the line, I knew she'd be much less likely to hold back information that he might not want public."

"Like prostituting himself?" Boss' eyes flashed once, almost too quick to see.

"Yes. I realize that Dresden told you that he'd never done more than bodyguard, but I prefer to be sure, when it comes to such things, and besides, Ms. Belle could very easily become a valuable business asset. Her facilities are very nice, and I would not be averse to merging her operation into one of mine."

"And tomorrow you're going to pull the same thing on Mr. Christian while you negotiate." Boss' lips quirked up and he nodded.

"I see no better way to get what information we can, until I can ask Gard to get the records that were stolen." As we drove down the road, I finally asked the question that had been bothering me.

"Why are you seeking this stuff out so rabidly anyway?"

"Because, Nathan, Mr. Dresden is one of mine. I would like nothing more than to keep him safe, and his past could play an instrumental role in doing so." Protecting him. Boss didn't just protect people, not people as dangerous as Dresden. Hell, Boss normally didn't even allow people as dangerous as Dresden to go on living. "Now, I believe you and I could, perhaps, pay Mr. Dresden another visit. Perhaps he will be in as good of a mood as the one you left him in, still." I smirked, a little, and didn't mention my thoughts.

"Not likely. That fucker broods like no one's business." Boss smiled, but shrugged as I started up the car and directed us towards Dresden's apartment. The sun was setting as the hour grew later. It was ten o'clock by the time we got there, and I wondered if he'd even be up as we got out of the car and walked over to the heavy steel door. I knocked heavily a few times, waited five minutes, and did it again. I heard a worrying crash inside and went tense, saw Boss do the same, but seconds later Dresden opened up the door, dressed only in boxers with little arc reactors all over them, and supporting himself almost fully on his staff. His eyes were sleep heavy, and the dark rings under his eyes made his face look hollow, ghostly. He yawned wide as he looked at us, obviously not totally recognizing who we were just yet, but recognition dawned quickly, followed by confusion.

"Cujo? Marcone? What are you guys doing here? It's like… uh… late, I think. Did something happen?" He was slurring like a drunk, and swaying like one too, but I didn't smell any alcohol, so I guessed he was just bone tired.

"Boss?" I heard someone ask in a sharp, feminine voice that was thick with sleep. Harry winced.

"Yeah, Grasshopper?" he asked.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, just go back to sleep. You've got school tomorrow, and Charity will kill me if you don't go." There was a snort, the sound of blankets shifting, and then it was quiet again. "So? What're you guys doing here?" Boss was glaring, but at what I didn't know. Dresden seemed to think it was him, from the way he flinched back a little.

"I simply wished to visit someone I consider to be a friend." Dresden blinked, and rubbed his eyes.

"Johnny, most people don't make social calls at whatever ungodly hour this is." He seemed to be waking up some. I glanced at his legs and saw how the muscle shifted when he started to support more of his own weight. He really did have nice legs. Runner's legs, long and lean. Huh. I shook my head and looked back up towards his face, making sure to keep my eyes on the bridge of his nose, since I wasn't positive he was awake enough to avoid a Soul Gaze. Boss had no such compulsion, and met Dresden's eyes head on. Dresden returned the stare.

"May I come in?" Harry looked confused, but he stepped aside.

"I'm not inviting you." He walked away from the door, and John stepped in behind him. I followed, and shut the door behind me with a slam. The pile of blankets on the couch jumped, and I suddenly saw a head the colors of cotton candy pop out, along with a young, pretty face and the top part of a too-adult body that didn't match up to the rest of her. The swirling lines of a tattoo stood out obviously on her skin, starting at her neck and dipping under the line of the black band t-shirt she had been sleeping in.

"Harry!" the girl squeaked, and the man himself sighed and moved over to her.

"I said don't worry about it, Padawan. They're both vanilla. I can handle it, go to sleep." She still looked frightened.

"Thieves don't dress in designer suits, Boss. Who are they?" Harry patted her head, and Boss crossed his arms.

"Some people I know. They're not enemies, okay? Not right now. Your dad knows them." She laughed.

"Like that means anything. He knows dangerous people and beings too, just not as many as you do."

"Well, they've been standing there, politely waiting for our conversation to end. Have you met any bad guys yet that would do that?"

"I get that they're not trying to kill us, Harry. I just want to know why they're here." I noticed she was staring at Dresden's bare chest, and wondered for a second if she was trying to avoid a Soul Gaze too. Dresden looked her right in the eye. Oh. Well, fuck. Apparently Dresden had a teenage girl after him. Somehow. Boss was probably going to be pissed, thinking he was taking advantage of her or something, especially from the way she was talking. And looking at him. No female should be able to stare that hard at a man's crotch and not be noticed by the owner of said crotch. He smiled at her, and patted her head again.

"That's what I'm wondering too, grasshopper, but you don't need to worry about it. Like I said, you've got school tomorrow, and I'd rather not have your mom on my ass about you skipping classes." She actually pouted a little, and she couldn't be more than sixteen, could she? I couldn't really tell.

"You dropped out." Dresden laughed a little.

"So I did. I'm an idiot though, and I've regretted it since then, a lot. I don't want you to regret it too. Besides, hasn't your mom told you yet that you should strive to do the exact opposite of literally everything I've done? This isn't the time to be having this discussion anyway, though. Go to sleep, kid, so I can find out what these two want and then carry my sorry ass back to bed."

"You weren't sleeping anyway," she mumbled, before she rolled over and yanked the blanket back up so it covered all but the top of her pink and blue hair. Dresden stood and walked over to us, before gesturing at the open door beside Boss and stepping through it. Boss and I followed, and he shut it quietly behind us. He yawned again, and I realized we were in his bedroom. His clothes, as well as a towel, were strewn across the floor, and his bed was small and messy. A Mickey Mouse alarm clock sat innocuously on his bedside table beside a worn paperback, and candles sat here and there around the room. He waved a hand and lit them with a murmured 'flickum bicus'. I wondered, for a second, why that hospitality of his hadn't forced him into offering us anything, until I recalled what he'd said at the door; he wasn't inviting us in. We were technically intruders then, I guessed, and so he wasn't bound to any laws. He leaned his staff against the wall, crossed his arms, and sat on the edge of his bed. It creaked angrily, just like his couch had earlier in the day. I wondered if he had any furniture that didn't make that protesting noise every time it was used.

"So?" he asked.

"That was Mr. Carpenter's eldest daughter, was it not?" Boss asked quietly. Dresden blinked.

"Yeah, it was. Molly, my apprentice. I don't think that's what you came to ask about, though, considering you obviously already knew who she was, and you couldn't have known she was coming over today, considering I didn't even know about it until she showed up at my door."

"When did she arrive?"

"About an hour after Cujo left."

"And what have you been doing?" Dresden wiggled his fingers in the air, a stupid smirk on his face, and god, but he couldn't have known how ridiculous he looked, sitting there like that in his Iron Man boxers with that idiotic expression.

"Magic." Boss sighed.

"I believe I could have deduced as much, as you called her your apprentice." Dresden grinned tiredly.

"Then why'd you ask, John? And you still haven't told you what you're doing here. I've had more than my daily dose of organized crime today." Boss smiled, and moved to sit by Dresden on the bed. Dresden raised his eyebrows at him.

"Tomorrow I am planning on paying a visit to your old employer, Nicholas Christian. I would like to give him some monetary assistance, in order to help him better perform his noble work of helping those children. As you have had prior contact with him, I assumed that you would be willing to put in a good word for me." Dresden laughed.

"I don't have any good words to say about you, Marcone." Boss' hand slid up to the side of his head, pressing in a little just above his torn ear. It had become a habit of his, after his time spent on that island.

"I am attempting to help him, as I admire the work he has done."

"Then convince him of that, not me. Nick will probably take the help, with or without me saying he should. I told Cujo it's been a while since I've even seen him. The last time I saw him was almost a year ago, when I gave him a consult on a case he was working, and we went out for a beer afterwards. He was a little hard up for money then, and he probably still is. I'd have lent him some if I wasn't living off scraps myself." I shifted from foot to foot. "That all you guys needed?"

"Is there any reason your apprentice is staying overnight in your home?" There it was. I'd known Boss wouldn't like her being here, not as young as she was, not as pretty as she was.

"Because she came by to ask me some questions, and by the time said questions were answered, it was dark. I don't like her walking through this neighborhood at night, and the Beetle's busted, so I couldn't drive her back myself. I called Charity, and she said so long as I got her to school in the morning it was fine."

"And you are so underdressed because?" Dresden blinked. Then laughed.

"Stars and fucking Stones, John!" he snickered, "You think I'd do something like that to my apprentice? She's too young, fuck that's disgusting! Hell's Bells, she's my best friend's daughter! I wouldn't sleep with her even if she were my age! Michael and Charity would kill me, then he'd have the Archangels kick my ass all the way down to hell! Christ, Marcone, I'm not immoral. I just took a shower an hour or so ago, that's why I'm just in my underwear, and I was planning on staying in my room the rest of the night. You know, so the teenager outside wouldn't be forced to look at my scrawny ass self. And then I got visitors." He yawned again, and stretched. His ribs shifted under his skin, and I realized that he had far fewer scars than I would've guessed, for someone in his line of work. He did currently have a fuck ton of bruises and minor scrapes, though, and one particularly nasty mark peeked out from the band of his boxers, a dark purple-green-yellow-blue splotch that made me wonder how whatever had done that had managed to avoid breaking his hip. I finally noticed the mess of scar tissue that served as his hand, and wondered what the hell had happened. It looked like a burn, and I guessed I knew why he always wore the one glove, now. Boss' eyes narrowed.

"I don't believe she would need to be forced to look at you, Mr. Dresden. She seems to have something of a crush on you, from what I've seen." Dresden smiled sadly, and looked down at his lap.

"Yeah, I know. I kind of figured that much out for myself, a while ago. Sometime between when she got a boyfriend that looked a lot like me and when she took a shower, stripped out of her robe, and tried to remove my pants. I threw cold water on her, and told her that I was uninterested, but she hasn't been able to get over it, yet. It's a bad situation, but there isn't much I can do about it. At the moment, I'm the only thing standing between her and a sword to the neck," he stated, and shrugged. So, chances were he had noticed her looking, but hadn't wanted to call her out on it, especially not when Boss and I were in the room. She'd have probably been incredibly embarrassed by it. "Either way, kids get crushes on their teachers. It happens. She's lucky I'm not one of the Wizards out there that thinks it's a master's right to do whatever they want with their apprentice." I shuddered at that. The thought of a bunch of kids out there, young wizards, being used by their teachers… it made me feel a little sick. Boss crossed his arms and looked away. I guessed he might have been a little upset at himself, for accusing Dresden of something it was obvious he wouldn't do.

"Ah. Alright, then. I will be leaving then, I suppose." Boss stood up and stalked out. Dresden sighed.

"Who pissed in his corn flakes? Anyway, you have a good day, Cujo? After you finished stalking me, I mean." I rolled my eyes.

"Damn it, Dresden, will you please just call me Hendricks or Nathan or something?" He laughed.

"Aw, you don't like Cujo? And here I thought I was good at naming things."

"You call your apprentice grasshopper."

"She's the one who wants to do her spells in Japanese. The line of shitty pseudo-Latin spells shall end with me! What horror!"

"You won't have any more apprentices?" He smirked.

"Didn't want the one I've got, but like I said, she'd be dead if I hadn't taken her on."

"Why?"

"I think that falls under the category of things that aren't your business." I sighed.

"Mr. Hendricks," Boss stage whispered, and I whipped around. Dresden waved.

"See you around, Nathan." Oh, oh hell. My cock twitched at his use of my name, and I wanted to go back to being Cujo. I knew I was blushing again as I walked out of the room.

"Yeah. Bye, Dresden." He grunted, and stood up from the bed to walk us out. He shut the door as quietly as possible, but I still heard the girl, Molly, grunt, and heard Dresden hushing her again. Boss and I climbed back into our car, and I started him off towards his place. "Hey, Boss?"

"Yes, Nathan?" His voice was tired, and it had lost a lot of the stiff politeness I normally associated with him nowadays.

"How come you thought Dresden would do… you know, with that girl?" He actually laughed a little, like I was a funny little kitten just trying to figure out how to walk without tripping over my paws and falling on my face.

"It was not him I was worried over, so much as the girl herself. I recognized her affection for him, of course, and while I realize that Mr. Dresden would never allow her to act on it, with him at least, I wanted to be certain he was handling it correctly, and he seems to be, although the physical affection he shows her may be somewhat difficult for her to take." I wondered when a pat or two on the head became physical affection, but come to think of it, that had been the most I'd ever seen him willingly touch someone. I shook my head again, a little, not enough for Boss to really notice.

"Oh. Why'd you want to drop by, anyway? You probably should've guessed he wouldn't call that guy for you." He gave a small half smile, one that made his eyes crinkle up like they hardly ever did anymore.

"I've yet to stop trying to get him to cooperate with me, you know. He's a pain in the ass on the best of days, I realize as much, but I'd like him to be a pain in the ass that's on my side. The more I'm around him, the more I see him, the larger the chance that he will, eventually, be." I nodded like I actually understood that, actually thought there wasn't more he was just not telling me, and pulled us into his driveway. The clock on the dashboard said it was a little after midnight, and Boss offered me a room for the night. Not wanting to drive home this late, I accepted.


	3. Chapter 3

When I awoke the next morning, he was already on the phone with Gard, his voice a low hiss. I assumed she was telling him bad news, and as I walked into his home office, I noticed that his hand was clenched tightly enough around the cellphone that I worried it would snap. As much as I hated to admit it, that wouldn't be the first phone that suffered that particular fate.

"Ms. Gard, what do you mean you fear you won't be able to get those records? You just said you knew a Wizard that would have access to them." Gard's voice was harsh, and I was able to hear it even through the phone. I guessed that she'd probably explained this already at least once, and Boss, in his stubbornness, was refusing to hear what she was trying to say.

"I mean that while he could get them, it may be an executable offense for him to allow me to see them. The file on Mr. Dresden is the property of the White Council, and they do not enjoy having their property tampered with by outsiders."

"Then just find out what's in the damned thing. You don't have to show me a physical copy. All I wish for is the information, Ms. Gard." It was silent for a moment or two, but then I heard Gard release a heavy huff of air.

"I will see what I can do, Mr. Marcone." The phone was hung up, and Boss granted me a smile.

"Good morning, Nathan."

"Hey Boss. Anything you need me to get done this morning, before that meeting?" He shook his head.

"No, I don't believe so, Mr. Hendricks. You may work on whatever you like until we must go, and after the meeting I would like you to pay another visit to Mr. Dresden while I attempt to work with Gard on getting the records from that ridiculous council." I blinked, and crossed my arms, before I moved over to the laptop he kept in that office for me.

"You want me to go talk to him again? Why?"

"He seems to have grown a bit more comfortable around you. Perhaps if he can manage to befriend you, he will be willing to do the same for me." I stared, and sighed like it'd do anything, before I nodded and booted the laptop up. I immediately opened up a paper that was due soon and only about halfway done, because hey, funny thing is, being an enforcer in the mob leaves surprisingly little time for school work, especially when your boss is pretty insistent that you should spend some time making nice with that one wizard. I've never been quite brave enough to try that excuse on any of my professors. Whatever. I worked until I noticed it was time to leave, then got Boss up and out to the car. It's honestly more of a full time job than people thought, keeping Boss' world spinning properly, keeping him up to date on meetings and information and, that one time, being certain that he had his shirt buttoned properly. My Boss with a hangover is something that the world never, ever needs to suffer through again.

We drove to the Ragged Angel Investigations office, and found it to be even more rundown than Dresden's shithole, but walked inside nonetheless. Boss and I both kept our heads down, though, even in the elevator. A heavier guy, short, with dark eyes and a large bald spot, answered the door when we knocked, and Boss and I both smiled politely as we came inside. He returned it. His teeth were a little crooked and a little yellowed, like a smoker's. I could see the bulge of a pack of cigarettes in his pants pocket, too.

"Good to see you two. I spoke with a Mr. Hendricks on the phone, but my name is Nicholas Christian. You can call me Nick, most folk do." Boss nodded, and we actually both got a seat, here. I assumed he had two chairs because of his work with missing kids, because parents would likely come together.

"Wonderful to meet you. I am Mr. Marcone, and the man you spoke to, Mr. Hendricks, is beside me. Now, before we get down to business, would you mind if I asked you a few questions about someone? A mutual companion of ours?" Nick's dark eyes went narrow, distrustful, even in the face of Boss' smile.

"I don't know any wiseguys," he said, softly. If he was still calling our guys wiseguys, then I was pretty sure he was telling the truth. Boss had upgraded a lot of things, in his reign, and the terminology was one of the biggest.

"The man I speak of isn't in my organization. He's staunchly against it, actually, despite numerous offers made. His name is Harry Dresden." It was a testament to how good this guy was, that he didn't show a reaction to the name.

"Dresden? Yeah, we knew each other, once upon a time. Why are you asking about him?"

"He gets into quite a lot of trouble, you understand, and while I'm normally able to keep a handle on it, it has been getting a bit more severe in recent weeks. I discovered his connection to you, and arranged this meeting both in the hopes that I could offer you some assistance with your work, and that you might have something that could help me keep him safe." The guy leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.

"If you wanted to hire him, then I guess you know about his… talent?" Boss nodded.

"Magic, yes."

"Yeah, well Dresden had a conscience a mile wide, when he worked with me. Never could leave well enough alone, not really. Part of the reason why I didn't bring him out with me all the time. Look into his recent work. He probably took a step too far and pissed someone or something off. It wouldn't be the first time, with him. Although, from what I've heard, he's gotten a lot better at that magic thing, over the years." A fond smile made its way across the man's rounded face. "Used to be his best defense was a ring he had, could make it light up and all. Said that most of the stupider things from the bad end of supernatural town would get fooled into thinking he could do something with it. He ended up giving that ring to a little girl named Faith though, a long time ago. Keep an eye out for the silly kid, god knows I can't anymore." Was that fondness in Boss' smile too, or an act? I couldn't always tell.

"His morality hasn't changed, Mr. Christian, although his power has indeed increased significantly. Now, do you know anything of his past? Something that may have returned to bite him? I've looked into his recent cases, and nothing has stood out." I saw Nick go a little closed as he shook his head.

"I don't know much about his life from before I hired him. He didn't much like talking about it, and I didn't force it. Kid was twenty, and damn good at what he did, so it wasn't my place. All I know is he had… nightmares, sometimes. Real bad looking ones. Always about some guy named Justin. Poor kid called him Uncle, or master, I think. Like I said, I never asked about it, since it wasn't any of my business, really." A few pieces came together. Justin DuMorne. If information on him existed, chances were I could find it, with a first and a last name. I tried to ignore that apparently Dresden called the guy master, tried to ignore what that might entail, the unwanted thoughts it brought up when linked to what Dresden had said before, about some masters and their apprentices. Boss looked a little upset, but he hid it effortlessly within seconds.

"Thank you, then. Now, what I'd like to begin with is, say, two thousand a month. I'll increase it if the quality of your work improves."

"And is that money going to come with your name attached? Because I sure as hell can't do this job that way. A lot of people come to me because they don't trust the cops, not with so many of them shoved in your pocket. My business will plummet, if I'm tied to you, not to mention the risk I'd incur from it." Most certainly not a stupid man. Boss shook his head.

"My name will not be in any way related to Ragged Angel Investigations. I care deeply for the safety of children, Mr. Christian, and much of my time has been spent in an attempt to keep them clear of this city's darkness. You help many that I can't reach or don't know about. That is something I appreciate." The guy took a few minutes, but he nodded.

"Alright, I'll take your offer. Money's been hard to come by, recently, and I've been doing more work pro bono than what should be strictly recommended. It's a little Harry in me, I think. Stupid kid, I didn't really want him to start up his own business, after his three years. Hell, I'd halfway planned on giving him this place, when I finally kicked it. He'd be able to run it a hell of a lot longer than me. But he's doing good where he is, and that's what he's always wanted, so I'm not going to complain at him." Boss nodded and smiled.

"Good. Thank you, Mr. Christian. I will get you your first payment within the week, although I must first get a secure way of delivery." Nick nodded, and once Boss shook his hand, we left. I dropped Boss off at his office, and then proceeded to go do my duty and keep an eye on one professional wizard, Harry Dresden.

* * *

I knocked loudly on his door, and it opened pretty quickly, but he wasn't the one behind it. Instead I saw the girl with cotton candy hair, Molly I think Harry had said. Now, however, I noticed the glint of a piercing in her nose, and another in her lip. A steady clicking told me she had one in her tongue too. She put her hands on her hips and smiled, though there was a little nervousness in her eyes. The slight shifting she was doing, from foot to foot, made the spiraling lines of her tattoo stand out even more against her pale skin.

"Hello there, sir. Can I ask what you're here for?" I tried to give her a reassuring smile, one that said 'calm down, I'm not going to club you over the head'. She settled a little, but the clicking stayed constant.

"I'm here for Dresden. I'm supposed to spend the day with him." She didn't look convinced.

"I know all of his friends, and you aren't one of them. Harry's busy, by the way. Will be for the next… two and a half hours, at least." Dresden's pony came up behind her and nosed her out of the way. I scratched it behind the ears, and she gazed down at him. "Mouse? This guy is on the level?" I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I am. I was here most of yesterday too, and I came in last night." Recognition dawned on her face.

"Oh! The quiet guy who came in with Mr. Creepy Voice. Um, Harry might be upset, if I let you in though. He doesn't like it. He made me scrub his stupid cooking pot just because I let a friend of mine come in once. Let me go ask him. Wait here." She didn't bother to shut the door behind her as she reentered the apartment and went over to the corner of the room, where I could see the corners of a thick Navajo rug. Unsafe, stupid. She wasn't cautious enough, yet. Probably hadn't seen much, battle wise. She kicked the rug out of the way, bent down, and pulled open a trapdoor. "Boss?" she yelled. I heard a grunt, and then the disgruntled face of Harry Dresden popped out.

"Grasshopper, I'm doing some very delicate work down here. I'd rather it not explode and kill us both, you know. I'm not too interested in being extra crispy just yet." She rolled her eyes.

"Your precious potion will last two seconds without you staring at it. There's a guy at the door, one of the ones that was here last night. He says he's supposed to spend the day with you." There were smudges on Dresden's face, I noted, dark and dusty like charcoal in a few places, red and waxy like lipstick in others. He sighed and ran a harsh hand through his hair.

"Yeah, alright, whatever. You know the rule, just don't invite him in, and close the door behind him. I'll deal with him when I'm done." There was an ominous popping noise. "Oh Hell's Bells, fuck!" He ducked back down through the trapdoor and slammed it behind him, narrowly missing catching the girl's nose. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, and she gave me a small smile.

"You want something to drink?" she asked. I shook my head.

"No, thank you. What are you doing up here anyway, if your teacher is down there?" She looked a little confused, but it faded quickly.

"You're one of the in the know mortals then? I'm up here because I haven't learned potions yet, and whatever he's doing down there it's," she was stopped by the sound of rushing air and more mumbled, surprisingly creative, cursing. I hadn't known people talked about something's mother that way. From the look on Molly's face, she didn't either. "Complicated. Really, really, complicated, and apparently it makes a lot of explosions while it's brewing. That's the fourth one, and he's only been down there for a half hour. I'm supposed to be doing homework, but without him up here to help me, I got stuck."

"Magic stuff?" I asked. Maybe it was something Gard had told me, and I could help the kid out. She shook her head.

"Math. Harry's actually surprisingly good at algebra, so he helps me with my math homework. When he's not down there yelling a bunch of stuff he tells me I shouldn't yell. The only problem is sometimes he gets distracted and doodles on my paper. I had to turn in something the other day with a dragon throwing up rainbows and a little miniature Harry laughing. Everyone wants to know who the weirdo I keep drawing is."

"Mother Mary holy god fucking damn it all to hell and back again three times, Stones this is ridiculous!" he yelled again, almost as though summoned.

"My dad would probably kill him, if he heard him talking that way."

"What's he even making?" I asked, as the girl jerked a piece of paper out of a small black backpack, along with a pencil and a calculator.

"No idea. Like I said, I don't know how to do potions yet, so he keeps me out of the loop with stuff like that, for fear I'll mess with something. He said something about a bad experience with leaving a potion bottle out once, and how he would really rather not have what happened then happen with me. Think you can help me with this?" I glanced at it, and nodded, because yeah, I'd always been a literature nut, but I could survive through math okay. I went through every problem with the kid, step by step, her chattering away every now and then, until the page was done. Maybe an hour had passed, and the area around the trapdoor had grown pretty quiet. I wondered if he'd managed to blow himself up when another round of cursing started, and I sighed. Molly did too, as she opened up a notebook. There were some phrases written in it in some Asian language, probably Japanese, since I remembered Dresden mentioning that the previous night. She flipped to a back page, and I saw a diagram of a circle. When she saw me looking, Molly sighed. "Boss is trying to teach me how to do basic binding circles. He says I have to be able to draw everything perfectly first, though, before he'll let me try. I've been working on it for weeks and I still haven't gotten it right." I glanced down at the page. It looked pretty damn good to me, all scrawling, flowing shapes.

"That looks pretty cool, to me." She sighed.

"This is the reference Harry drew me." She flipped the page and revealed something similar to what had been on the first place, but much messier, more scribble than scrawl, and a few of the symbols were crooked. "This is my most recent attempt. Those things are a lot harder to draw than you'd think, but Harry says I'm getting it faster than he did. Boss says I've got a talent for delicate stuff like this. That's why I think I should be allowed to help with the potions." I looked at her, for a second, and quirked up an eyebrow.

"Delicate stuff?" She grinned, snapped her finger, and was suddenly no longer on the couch.

"Veil," I said. She appeared on the other side of the room, having stood silently and managed to make her way over. Impressive.

"Yup! I've always been good at them. A veil was the very first thing I ever did with my magic, and it was the first thing Harry helped me perfect." She walked back over and scribbled in the notebook silently, Dresden's random bouts of cursing serving as a backdrop, along with the crackling fire in the hearth, but finally, he emerged from the trapdoor, tired looking but smiling. His face had all the smudges of before, along with some new ones and a spattering of what appeared to be green slime on his neck. The terrycloth bathrobe he had over his clothes appeared to have been blue, in another life, but was now a mess of soot stains. His right hand was dripping blood steadily, and when Molly saw that, she dropped the notebook and ran over to him. "Boss! You should know better than to bleed all over the place like that!" He glanced down at the bloody hand and gave her a grin. The substance appeared to be coming from a long gash over the back of his hand, right where I knew there was a larger vein.

"Don't worry about it, Padawan, I'm fine, and the blood's not going to be an issue. Nathan's not a wizard, you should be able to tell that much, and besides, it'll dry into the floor before he could get it to an actual practitioner anyway. I've bled on this floor enough to have figured that out."

"How'd you do that anyway?" she asked, sliding over to a small chest of drawers and pulling out a little medical kit. She dragged him over to a chair and forced him to sit as she cleaned the thing, being careful to put the cotton she wiped the blood away with out of my easy reach. I could understand the caution, really, if some of the things I'd read could be done with blood were true, and I was pretty sure they were, since Gard had given me and Boss specific warnings not to allow enemies any chance at getting ours.

"Had to give some blood for the potion to work." She blinked.

"You bled into that potion." He nodded. She swatted his head, and pouted.

"Idiot, didn't you tell me that that would mean the blood would always be viable?" He nodded, and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, it will be, but that potion is staying right down there in my lab unless I need it. No way anything could get at it, and even if they could, they wouldn't know what it was. I don't label, remember? For all anyone would be able to see, it'd look just like any other potion down there, and they're all easy things, like what I'd teach you with. Plus, even if they did manage to figure out how to get it and what it was, they'd still have to separate it into component parts, and that's some high level stuff. I can't do it with a lot of things, although I've never practiced much, beyond learning the basics. I don't think anyone would be that desperate to use the potion to kill me, you know? There's way easier ways to get my blood, and besides, that potion would be far more useful to someone just by drinking it." She sighed, and started to attempt to bandage the wound, which I saw was long and thin, like what someone would get with a thin-bladed knife, but he jerked his hand free of her. He saw me looking at it, and wiggled his fingers. "Ritual knife, Nathan. Your boss can't have one."

"Boss! Let me bandage your hand, or you'll tear it open again." He snickered.

"I'll end up tearing it open again no matter what you do to it, kid, including stitches. Besides, I need a shower. I'll let you bandage it when I'm done. Hey, you can even disinfect it, so Hendricks over there can see my cry like a little girl."

"You never cry," she said, her arms crossed in a huff. He smirked, and his eyes sparkled brightly. He looked annoyingly cute, like that, all smudged up and sooty. I shook my head. Damn it, I needed sex badly. Really, really badly. No man should be desperate enough to think Dresden is cute. The man is 95% limbs, 100% sarcasm, and 100% pain in my ass. That is not a fucking recipe for cute.

"I do when people are trying to disinfect the gaping wound that is, on occasion, my body. Makes them take pity and pump me full of painkillers until I can't see straight." She glared at him, and I had a feeling that this wasn't the first time a conversation like this had happened.

"Oh, you mean like when Butters had to come by here and put you on a morphine drip because you refused to go to the hospital even though you couldn't walk and your entire leg was covered in blood and gore." He heaved a heavy, world weary sigh, and no, this wasn't the first time this conversation had happened.

"Kid, you know why I can't go to hospitals. I don't really want to risk making someone's grandpa's respirator go out, and if I break another X-Ray machine, I'm pretty sure they're going to start making me pay for them. Butters is already considering it. Also, I could walk, and not all of that blood and gore was mine. I wasn't even hurt all that badly that time! There was no need for that much morphine. A Tylenol and I would've been perfectly fine." She stared at him, her own blue eyes bright with challenge.

"Your femoral artery was nicked. By the time you limped in, you were almost dead. You almost died two more times overnight because your apartment isn't exactly the best place to give a blood transfusion. That was the night you told me about…" she glanced over to me for a second, thinking, "That thing you're leaving me, when you die." There were tears beading in her eyes, and Dresden hugged her tightly, smearing his soot stains all over her clothes and hair.

"I live a dangerous life, Molly. You know that, and you also know why I do it, and why I can't just suddenly quit, even though you and a lot of other people, including your dad, seem to want me to. I might die, I'll admit it. Hell, the odds are good that I will, one of these days. There are a lot of nasty things out there that think I'd look a lot better as a reddish smear on some concrete. I can't help that particular fact of my life, because if I don't do something, there aren't many people out there who can." She wiped her eyes, and any evidence of tears was gone like it'd never been there at all.

"I'd take over for you. You know that." He smiled.

"That's part of what worries me, grasshopper. You're not cut out for combat, and you and I both know it. The bad guys would figure it out pretty quick too. Now, how about you release your mighty Kung Fu grip and let me go, because I really, really need a shower. I'll let you doctor me all better as soon as I get out." She nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, go off to your own personal torture chamber. I'll see if you actually have any real food for once." He laughed and waved his gloved hand. I wondered if she knew what was under that glove. Probably did, I guessed.

"Cold water is good for the soul, young one. And if you dare try to cook anything in my house again, I swear I will charge you for crimes against humanity." She blushed a little.

"I can nuke a frozen dinner just as well as you," she mumbled. I heard Dresden snicker as he went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"Not on a woodstove you can't, kiddo!" Water started running, and Molly shifted a little closer to the door. I felt it easily when she made the wards a little stronger, and gave her a curious glance.

"I get antsy, when he's bathing, so I bulk up the wards a little."

"What, you don't think he could get out of a shower quickly enough to do something, if something bad happened?" She shook her head, and another pale flush blossomed on her cheeks. There, that was something I was supposed to call cute! I wasn't able to, though. I blamed it on her age and then proceeded to ignore it.

"No, he's fought naked before. He, um, used to sleep that way, before I started staying over a lot. And something came after him once, at night, when it burst in and I had to run away. He just ran out onto the street that way. And there was another time he did that, too, a story he told me from before I really knew him, when he was still with Ms. Rodriguez. Anyway, it isn't that I think his fighting capability is diminished when he's naked, it's the running water." I'd heard something about water and magic, but I hadn't really believed it.

"What?" She shrugged.

"Running water grounds magic. He can still use it, yeah, it's not like Thorn Manacles, but it'd take him a lot longer to grab it and build up enough for it to be useful. He's as good as powerless right now. If something were to run into the bathroom right now and attempt to gank him he wouldn't be able to do anything about it, unless he was able to get out from under the water before it got him, and even then his power would be cut a little, since he'd be wet. Running water's worse, but any large amount of water can make him weaker, even if it's still water. So I get a little worried, sometimes. He's got the survival instincts of a gnat, I swear," she grumbled, marching off into the kitchen and pulling the icebox open. She yanked out a Coke, then started rooting around in the cabinets over the small kitchen counter and the woodstove. She eventually walked triumphantly back into the living area with a half empty box of cookies. "Another reason I love staying here. Boss always keeps junk food somewhere in this place. He usually hides the good stuff under his bed, though." I spoke without thinking. I was doing that a little too often, lately, when it came to Dresden.

"Of course he keeps junk food where most guys keep their porn." She flushed again and the shower cut off. Five minutes later Dresden emerged from his room, hair wet and curling, dressed in loose sweats that hung limply on his too-thin frame. He pouted when he saw the cookies.

"Damn it, Molly, I was saving those for the next time I could buy milk!" She snickered and popped another in her mouth out of spite. "You know your mom will be upset if you don't eat whatever she cooks tonight." The girl actually looked pensive for the first time since I'd met her as Dresden moved to plop down on the chair and hold his hand out. There were a few streaks of pale pink on it that suggested the cut had started to bleed again while he showered. She grabbed the little medical kit again and kneeled in front of him, taking out little alcohol wipe and rubbing it over the spot, then smearing some kind of white goop on top of that. Dresden didn't even wince.

"Actually, I'm not going home tonight. I told mom that you said I could stay over for the rest of the week." Dresden gave her a harsh stare, and she shrank back.

"Molly, we talked about this already, a lot. Apparently we're going to have to talk about it again." She tensed up, Dresden's hand still in hers, and he hissed out his pain. "Let up, kid. Knife wound, remember?" She went wide eyed and released the limb quickly, before she wrapped bandages around it. Dresden flexed it, making sure he still had good range of motion, and then helped her pack up the medical supplies.

"If you'd just let me live with you, we wouldn't have to keep yelling about it." Harry sighed, and patted her head again.

"Grasshopper, you've got family, and they love you a lot. You shouldn't be so eager to leave them, and I'm sure as hell not someone you should want to emulate anyway. I mess up a lot. I make bad decisions almost constantly. I've got enough debts to make the most hardcore gamblers weep. I don't want you to mess up in the same ways I have, okay? I'm not good at family, and I don't have much of one anyway. You do. You've got two parents and a boatload of siblings that think you're god's gift to the earth. Take advantage of it." She smiled.

"Boss, me and the rugrats have called you Uncle Harry ever since we learned to talk. Mom and dad named a kid after you. I think you've got family." He kept up his grin and patted her head again. I noticed suddenly how ridiculous the leather glove looked with the gray sweats.

"Not the same. You can stay tonight, okay? But tomorrow, after you get out of school, you're going home. And no arguing, I'm bigger than you. I've got work to do tomorrow anyway, and you don't concentrate on my homework, or the school's, for that matter, as well if I'm around." She pouted and swept off into Dresden's room. His shower started up again a few minutes later, and I heard an indignant squawk from that direction. He snickered. "Poor kid. Always complains at me about how I don't have hot water, and then she forgets I don't have hot water whenever she uses my shower." I had to laugh a little as Dresden moved to sit on the couch beside me. "So, Nate, what brings you here again? Is the mafia really getting so dull that I'm a viable source of entertainment?"

"Boss asked me to." He lifted his cut hand dramatically to his head and pretended to faint.

"You wound me! And here I thought you were coming to enjoy my company!"

"As if," I mumbled, and he laughed, patting my shoulder harshly.

"Aw, come on, Natey! You know I'm awesome! And hell, look at me! I'm fucking adorable!"

"Natey?" I asked, glaring but not really meaning it. He grinned, sickly sweet and dripping with venom. He'd have made a good high school cheerleader.

"I like nicknames, and you won't let me call you Cujo anymore. Oh, yeah, and I just remembered. Don't mention mafia crap around Molly. I don't want her involved with Marcone anymore than she has to be." I nodded.

"Of course not. I was with her most of the time you were down there, and I didn't mention it. I don't think you need to remind me not to break one of Boss' rules."

"No kids, right. Sorry. Like I said, though, I'm responsible for her life. I don't want anything to happen to her, and she really, really isn't cut out for combat." I nodded.

"You said that earlier. What makes you different from her? You seem a lot alike, to me." He laughed a little.

"Yeah, well, like is best to teach like. That's part of the reason they let me do it to begin with. She was caught up in a situation similar to one I was in, a long time ago, but still. Magic doesn't give a shit about personality though. I'm bad at everything she's good at, and vice versa. I can't pull off a good veil at gunpoint, and she can do it without thinking. I can toast a monster and not feel a thing, but even just watching it, she feels too intensely. She's kind of an empath, in a way, and an empath can't kill or watch death without getting some psychic trauma. She's got a knack for a lot of things, important things, but no one in their right mind would send her into a battle."

"So you're just training her for nothing?" He shook his head.

"Nope. I'm training her because she's got power and she needs to know how to use it right. I'm training her because if I don't she'll end up dead, or worse, and I couldn't stand to see that happen to a friend's child. Power goes to people's heads, and the road to hell is paved with the best intentions." With a sudden shock, I realized that Molly must have done something similar to what Dresden had, must have ended up feeling inhuman with a bag over her head and a threat of execution, like Dresden had. The water stopped, and the girl came out shortly after dressed in a t-shirt I knew was Dresden's, although the jeans weren't thirty miles too long, so they were likely hers. Dresden blinked at the shirt.

"I dropped mine in a puddle of water, sorry." He shrugged.

"Whatever, kid. You know what time it is, Nathan?" God, but I wished he'd stop calling me Nathan. Nate, or even Natey, was a lot easier to deal with and yeah, as soon as I got the chance I was going to let off some steam. I glanced down at the watch at my wrist.

"Seven o'clock."

"You're not going to tell me it's my bedtime, are you Boss?" He rolled his eyes.

"No, I was going to go into the kitchen, but if you're tired and don't want the chicken I've been roasting all day, then you're welcome to go to sleep." I actually almost saw her drool.

"You know, Boss, that's the only thing you can cook I like better than what mom makes."

"You're making me blush, kid. I've tasted Charity's food, it's heaven on earth." He stood up and wandered into the kitchen, and I suddenly recognized the sway of his hips as he walked, hypnotic, back and forth and hey, he had a pretty nice ass, didn't he? He opened the woodstove, and a delicious smell wafted out, the scent of herbs and slow cooking and I could see why Molly had been so close to drooling, because I was tempted to wipe my mouth just to make sure I wasn't. "Cool, it's done! Ready to eat, Molly? You're welcome to some too, if you want it, Nathan." Why did I keep complaining when he gave me nicknames? I should know, at this point, that they're for the best. I'd have turned him down and gone to deal with how pent up I apparently was if it didn't smell so damn good. He dropped the chicken on the center of the tiny table he had set up in there, and then plucked out three mismatched plates and three even more mismatched sets of silverware. One of the forks he pulled out had the prongs twisted into a spiral, and he only gave it a passing glance before he tossed it back into the drawer and pulled out a good one. What an interesting life he had to lead, if a fork like that was worthy of only passing notice and a toss back into a cutlery drawer.

He carved up the chicken and dropped large chunks onto all of the plates, then sat down and dug in. Molly took that as her cue to do the same, and I followed, not feeling quite as comfortable as those two seemed to. I picked off a piece and dropped it into my mouth, then nearly groaned at the taste. Damn, but that tasted good. I'd eaten some pretty amazing things, in my time, but that chicken ranked pretty high up, and got a few extra points simply by virtue of being homemade, and it's been a while since I had anything homemade. I scarfed it and asked for seconds, which Dresden provided with a smile. Halfway through that portion, though, I got a call and went as far from the two as I could to take it.

"Mr. Hendricks," the voice on the other end stated.

"Boss."

"Gard managed to get the information from a friend of hers. She wrote up a summary of it and it is currently on my desk. I'd like you to come look at it with me." I shifted.

"Can I finish eating first, Boss?" He paused for a second or two.

"What?"

"Dresden cooked. It tastes really fucking good, and I want to finish." Another pause.

"I… suppose so, Nathan. Please, do enjoy yourself. I will be in my office when you arrive." I nodded, and ended the call. When I got back, Dresden and Molly had finished, and she was asking him about the potion he'd made. He rolled his eyes at her, looking a little reluctant; especially since I was there, but seemed to eventually decide it was okay.

"Well, I guess it won't really serve the purpose I want it to serve, if no one knows about it but me. Nathan, you actually might need to know too, much as I hate to admit it. It's sort of like a panic button, last ditch emergency thing for when shit has totally hit the fan and nothing else will stop it from splattering everywhere. It's a power potion, you understand, it'd give anyone who drank it a nice big power up, me especially." Magic always has, and probably always will, make me curious.

"Why would it work better for you?" Understanding dawned suddenly on Molly's face, and she spoke before he could, a big grin on her face.

"Because it's tied to his blood!" Dresden flicked her arm, and I wondered why she was freaking out so much when Dresden looked so calm. Maybe she'd misunderstood something.

"Calm down, grasshopper, it isn't that big of a deal." She grinned again.

"It so is! That thing could, theoretically, give a vanilla magic, couldn't it?" Yeah, I was starting to see why she was freaking out over it, now, and I was even more curious.

"Maybe. And that's a real big maybe, kiddo. They'd already have to be a low-level talent for that to happen. You'd need the blood of a wizard a hell of a lot more powerful than me to pull that off. The Merlin himself, probably, and I'm pretty sure his blood is better guarded than Fort Knox." She sobered suddenly, and I wondered why.

"But it's also tied to your life, isn't it? If someone besides you drank it, couldn't it, like, kill you?" He shrugged.

"There's a low risk of it, but that's only if whoever's drinking it has a really interesting constitution. The risk of that would be close to nil if a mortal drinks it, but it might go up to fifty percent or so if a nonhuman or immortal used it." She nodded, and shifted a little in the chair.

That was… kind of worrying, the thought of someone drinking that and killing him. I looked at him harshly, and wondered why I was so damned upset about it, even though in all actuality that was a pretty damn good failsafe.

"Dresden. That all sounds really fucking dangerous. What the hell are you going to do if something gets that thing and you don't want them to?" Dresden smiled, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"If someone doesn't need it, desperately, they're not going to be able to get it. I made sure of that. I've got someone keeping an eye on it, and if someone he doesn't want to get it goes after it, he can trigger some wards I set up." he said, and Molly grinned with a good natured roll of her eyes.

"And let me guess; those wards explode?"

"Kablooey," he agreed with a sage nod of his head.

"Is this another thing you're leaving me?" Molly asked quietly, looking a little nervous. He smiled.

"In a way, I guess. If it ever comes to that. If you drank that, you'd lose that part of you that makes it so you can't fight, at least temporarily. Chicago would get a new wizard to protect it." I'd always thought it was amazing, how long Dresden had managed to live. Apparently he did too, from the way all this sounded, all those precautions he seemed to be taking. I finished eating.

"You keep that damned thing safe, Dresden. I've got to go." He nodded, and spared me a wave. Molly did too.

"See you later, Nathan. Probably tomorrow, from the way things have been going," he said with a snicker. I left the apartment and drove back to Boss' office. On the way, I decided not to tell him about the potion Dresden had created. That would mark the first time I ever kept something from him.


	4. Chapter 4

I pulled up to the office and walked upstairs, yet again flashing my ID, yet again feeling the wards spread for me like a curtain. I opened Boss' door and he smiled at me, gestured for me to take a seat in the chair he'd pulled up beside him. I did, and he flicked open Gard's report with deft fingers. I've often wondered how it was that Gard managed to work our finicky fax machine, copier, and printer with ease, while Dresden was lucky if he could be in the same room as something electric and not have it blow up in his face. I read over the report quickly.

Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden was adopted seven times over the course of four years, from age six to age ten. These homes were, as far as the state of Vermont was concerned, non-abusive, and each claimed emotional disturbance and an inability to handle his outbursts as the reason he was returned. He did not get along well with the other children, and he was often cited for starting fights in whatever school he went to, generally with students that were older or significantly larger than himself.

Shortly after his tenth birthday, however, he was adopted by a wealthy man named Justin DuMorne, a known wizard and former Warden of the White Council who assisted in the destruction of the Necromancer Kemmlar and his disciples. His social worker ceased visiting him after a period of one month. Harry Dresden, who had been displaying significant magical talent since his father's death, was instated as Justin DuMorne's apprentice, and was trained rigorously for a period of three years, at which point DuMorne adopted another young wizard by the name of Elaine Lilian Mallory. Dresden and Mallory eventually engaged in a romantic relationship.

Dresden claimed that DuMorne had always been interested in darker magic, and dabbled in it often, generally including his two apprentices. Mallory is known to have taken to it rather well and rather quickly, while Dresden himself seemed more reluctant. Dresden also claimed that DuMorne was abusive, although specific examples of said abuse were not cited. It is, however, known that upon entering DuMorne's household, Dresden was healthy, and upon leaving, he was found to be underweight and had nutritional deficiencies, as well as physical evidence of abuse, such as extensive scarring that was more severe on his back, an area where ritual scars are often placed, bruising, and multiple healed fractures to his extremities and skull. For the first month after DuMorne's death, it is said that he could not be touched without lashing out, although this has improved steadily throughout his life.

A few months before his sixteenth birthday, Dresden claims that DuMorne attempted to Enthrall him, an attempt which failed. He then claims that DuMorne proceeded to Enthrall Mallory, as practice, and would often remove said Thrall only to place it back, generally stronger than it had previously been. This strained the relationship between the two teenagers, likely due to the fact that the removal and replacement of a Thrall multiple times can result in damage to the Enthralled's psyche. Dresden states that for one week, the week before his birthday, this cycle grew worse, and culminated in Mallory forcing Dresden down to the basement and binding him, so that DuMorne could more readily Enthrall him. It was at this point that Dresden claimed to have summoned the powerful Winter fairy, Leansidhe, whom he claimed was his godmother. He stated that she gifted him with the power to escape. He claimed, then, that he burned the household and fled.

He stated that while he tried to get Mallory out of the fire, she refused to go with him, and insisted on remaining with DuMorne, attempting to get him free. Dresden also began to openly cry upon hearing of her passing, but once he stopped, he informed the ones questioning him that, before the Council caught up with him, he was forced to do battle with a monster DuMorne sent after him with his dying breathe. The description of this monster was quite similar to known descriptions of the Outsider called He Who Walks Behind, but said notion was quickly dispelled, as Dresden was young and still largely untrained, and thus there was next to no chance he could have survived a battle with one of the Walkers. It was assumed that the creature was a shifter of some sort, and thus just took the form of a Walker, in order to appear more dangerous than it truly was.

After his questioning, the Merlin of the White Council performed a Soul Gaze on him in order to determine whether or not the black magic he'd used had tainted his mind beyond repair, and, in his report, claimed that it had. The trial was held immediately, and Dresden would have been sentenced to immediate execution, if not for the intervention of the respected Council wizard, Ebenezer 'Blackstaff' McCoy. Dresden was placed under the Doom of Damocles instead, and sent to Missouri to live with and be trained by McCoy, while said wizard was under orders to execute him for any sign of regression or disobedience. McCoy disobeyed said order quite frequently, and trained Dresden in the art of magic, and in the idea that it should never be used to destroy, only to create, despite the fact that McCoy, as the Blackstaff, was often called upon to break the Laws of Magic, and was seen as the Assassin of the White Council.

At age eighteen, far earlier than most, Dresden was granted full status as a wizard and moved to Chicago, where, until the case where he first encountered you, he remained under the Doom and was kept under the watchful eye of his Warden, Donald Morgan. He was recently placed back under the Doom, however, because of his intervention in the case of one Molly Carpenter, who was accused of tampering in the minds of others, an executable offense. She claimed ignorance of the law, and was defended by Dresden. The Council, while reluctant, allowed the pairing, despite the fear that a Warlock teaching another Warlock would bring about destruction.

After I read it, I felt a little sick. From the expression on Boss' face, he did too. He closed the report with more noise and force than what was strictly necessary. He closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and I knew that he was probably doing the counting exercise he favored for when he got stressed. I was about to speak to try to calm him down, when he spoke through gritted teeth

"Mr. Hendricks, you will call Mr. Dresden immediately, and inform him that I require his presence in my office. Use my Barony as leverage if you must, threaten him if it's necessary. I do not care, just get him here." Boss' voice was cold, and Boss' voice was almost never cold, not really. Blank, yeah, nothing showing through, I'd heard that before. This wasn't blank. This was frozen anger, hardened into him totally, and no, I'd never seen him that way, not ever. I didn't want to risk refusing him, so I dug around until I found his house number, and called it. Molly answered instead of Dresden.

"Hello? If this is another prank call, I'm redialing!" I sighed.

"Molly, this is Nathan, the guy who was there earlier today. Can you put Dresden on for me?" She hummed.

"Are you and he dating or something?" I choked.

"Why would you think that?" She giggled.

"You were staring at his ass earlier today, like, a lot. And his legs, which are really nice, I have to admit. As far as legs go anyway. And you were just as worried as me, when he said what his project was. And you had to cross your legs pretty much every time he said your name. I figure either you two are already together and he was being a tease or you've got it bad for him and he's being stupid again. So, which one is it?" I glared at nothing, and out of the corner of my eye saw Boss steadily scrape scrape scraping against his desk with his blunted nails. More upset than I'd seen him in years. Off balance too, probably, and Boss hated being off balance. I needed to get Dresden to come by, and I needed to do it pretty damn fast.

"Neither. Put him on the line." At the tone of my voice I heard her immediately make a noise of affirmation, and about a minute later Dresden came on.

"Nathan? Hell's Bells, man, I didn't get this many visits and phone calls from my girlfriend."

"You need to get your ass down to Boss' office." He grunted.

"And why in the world would I do that, Nate? It's the middle of winter, I've got a propensity for Winder Sidhe coming to kill me, and it's dark out. Is this some convoluted plot to kill me? Because if so, kudos for the creativity, but I've got to fail you on everything else. Usually straight violence works a little better than cleverness, when trying to injure me." I snarled, too low for him to hear, probably. The line snapped with the static it always picked up when Dresden was on the other end.

"It's important. Baron Marcone requests it." Dresden heaved a heavy sigh.

"You're really going to make this into an Accords thing? Can't it wait until tomorrow? I do have to walk there, remember?" Oh, yeah. His car was broken down again. I pulled the cell I was using away from my mouth, so I could talk to Boss without Dresden hearing.

"His car's broken down, Boss. If he came over, he'd have to walk. He wants to know if it can wait until tomorrow." Boss' eyes blazed and narrowed.

"He will come tonight, even if he has to come through the damned Nevernever." I winced, and brought the phone back against my head.

"Baron Marcone says that this is of the utmost importance, and it's vital that you arrive tonight." I heard him groan.

"Damn it. I hate the Accords. If I didn't think Marcone would make some big political deal out of this, I wouldn't show up, you know. What office are you guys in?" I told him the address. "Alright. I'll be there in about an hour, maybe two, depending on if the sidewalks have gotten bad and if I've got the cash for a cab." I heard Molly asking what was going on in the background.

"See you then." I hung up the phone, and Boss looked at me expectantly. "He said he'd be here within two hours." He nodded, and his hands settled, although he still directed a stare at his computer screen that suggested said screen had become sentient and told him that it had spent the past year fucking his sister up the ass. The room was quiet for about an hour and forty five minutes, until Storm Cloud Dresden rolled in, mouth set in a tense frown and hair mussed from the wind. He had gloves on both his hands, now, and I was pretty glad. I didn't much want to know Boss' reaction to that cut, right now. He was also bundled tight in a thick winter jacket, his duster on over even that, and he had even opted to wear something thicker and stronger than his normal cowboy boots. His face was flushed with the cold and he licked his dry lips periodically. There was also tension in the line of his shoulders, the stretch of his arm and hand, gripped around his staff.

"Well? I'm here, Baron. What is it you want?" His voice quavered a little, and, looking closer, I saw that he was being wracked with shivers.

"Sit," Boss said stiffly, his chin perched on his steepled fingers. His eyes tracked Dresden effortlessly, predatory, as he moved across the room and jerked the chair out. He kept his staff gripped in his hands, tight enough that he'd probably be white knuckled, though I couldn't tell because of his gloves. Boss dropped the report on the table, and gestured for Dresden to read it. He rolled his eyes and did so. By the end of the first paragraph, his eyes had narrowed, and his shaking was no longer from the cold.

"Where did you get this, Marcone? You shouldn't have… they shouldn't have let you have this. It's none of your business. It's no one's business but my own. Why did you call me down here for this? Did you want to show off your resources or something? Let me know that my private life isn't really private? Oh, I know, fucking Hendricks over there found out a little, and you just couldn't fucking stand not knowing the whole damned story, could you? Are you fucking happy now?" Boss' hand shot out, too quick to see, and grabbed Dresden by the front of his jacket, jerking him forward over the desk, so their faces were inches apart. Boss showed his teeth in an animal growl.

"No, Mr. Dresden, I am not happy. I am quite far from happy. How dare you let that man get away with simple death, Harry? How dare you not make him suffer? He and that damnable Council." Dresden laughed, but it was harsh and barking, filled with bitterness and anger.

"What happened when I was a kid is not your problem. If you're pissed at me for killing Elaine too, well, she's not really dead. She got out too. Now let me go." Boss sneered.

"I couldn't give less of a damn whether she was alive or not, Harry. What I want to know is why you didn't give him as bad as he gave you." Dresden managed to jerk free from Boss' hold.

"It wasn't as bad as that report makes it out to be. DuMorne hardly ever hit me, and he was worse on Elaine than me." Boss crossed his arms.

"And how is that, Harry?" Dresden looked at Boss like he was an idiot.

"Elaine was a girl. What do you think happened?" Boss moved around the desk and forced him back into the chair. I was getting a little nervous, about this conversation, about forcing Dresden to dredge up things he obviously didn't want to dredge up, but Boss was on a warpath, and I didn't dare to anything about it, not yet, not unless he actually started to hurt Dresden.

"That happened to you as well. The haphephobia this report mentioned, the one that slowly resolved itself; one cause of that condition is sexual assault, and last night you mentioned something about masters who felt it was their right to do whatever they wished with their apprentices." Dresden's hands clenched around the chair arms, and he looked ready to bolt.

"Once. He only did that to me once, for a ritual, because I was still a virgin at that point, and Elaine wasn't. Elaine got it a hell of a lot more than once." Boss seemed satisfied with that, although he didn't quite seem to believe it. To be honest, I wasn't sure I did either.

"And I believe he hit you more than 'occasionally'. Multiple fractures to ones extremities, and one's skull, do not occur from occasional beatings. This was long term abuse, and you were bruised upon being found."

"I got a lot of those fractures from training exercises. He taught me how to shield with a pitching machine. Sometimes they hit hard enough to break something. That's why I learned how to shield." I felt cold, felt some of Boss' anger fill me up too. "Pain is a good teacher. It's not the one I use with Molly, but it works. I learned, and I learned quick. Do what Uncle Justin says, and it'll stop hurting. That lesson never quite sunk in with me, though." He said that with a sneer, and no, his defiance was definitely not a new thing. That made a spark of happy try to cut through all the anger.

"Were any of your injuries from that time from pure physical beatings that had nothing to do with training?" Dresden shrugged.

"DuMorne wasn't a large man. I'd hit his height by fourteen, and physical strength was never his forte. He thought it was idiotic, a purely vanilla fascination."

"Answer my question. Stop dancing around it."

"I don't know, Marcone. Probably one or two, I guess." I saw how his hand slid subconsciously to his thigh and rubbed there gently. Boss noticed it too.

"You do remember something. Your thigh, correct?" He winced.

"Fuck you. You're lucky… goddamn it. You're lucky I've got to tell you about this." I glanced at Boss and quirked an eyebrow. He spared me a small smirk. "Yeah, he broke my thigh bone, once. I'd pissed him off, badly, because I… hell, I don't even remember what I did. It was a rare day that I didn't piss him off. It was worse that day though, because during that time, he was worried about the White Council catching on to what he was doing. They were investigating reports of black magic in the area at the time, and the usual scapegoats he used weren't working out. I just added on to his stress by doing whatever it was I did. He brought me down to the basement, like he usually did when he wanted to punish me. He beat me for a while, just hitting and kicking like usual, and then he stomped on the bone. It broke, and he left me down there for about three days or so, until I managed to crawl up the stairs, and then he brought me to a hospital."

"And he didn't do shit like that to the girl?" I spoke up suddenly, my voice hardly more than a rumble. Dresden, Harry, shook his head.

"No. Elaine was good, obedient and all that. I was bad. He was her Uncle Justin, but he was just my Master, except on the rare days I actually did try to be good." It was weird, hearing him talk like that, in good and bad, like a child. I noticed his eyes had gone a little distant, too, like he wasn't actually in the room, like he was back with that fucker. He almost looked hypnotized. "I really did try, some days. I really did want Master to love me sometimes. I'd cook for him, and clean for him, anything else he asked, on my good days, the days I got to call him Uncle Justin too. On my bad days I got locked in our room, or the basement, and Elaine would do the cooking and cleaning and taking care of Master until bed time, then she'd hold me for the night, if I was in our room." So, so like a child, innocent and afraid, and what the hell had Boss done? I wanted to be sick, hearing him talk that way.

"The scars he put on your back were ritual scars, weren't they? From the same time as when he forced you to sleep with him." Harry blinked owlishly.

"He had me help him that way more than once. I'm not quite sure I know which time you mean, but I think maybe I do. The first time, in the circle. He told me Elaine wasn't good enough, for what he was doing. I didn't understand what he meant. Elaine was pretty, always pretty, and she was the good girl. I was the bad boy. He had me on my knees. The floor scraped them up, I remember that. I don't know why I remember that, but I do, and it cut up my palms too. They were raw for the next week. He used a special knife on my back, to put his name there. He said it meant I was his boy. I asked why Elaine didn't have it and he told me she wasn't good enough again. I got… mad at him for that. I loved Elaine. We took care of each other. She was good so I didn't have to be, she told me so. Elaine was better than me. He slapped me. He liked slapping me, I don't know why. It didn't hurt, not really, not as much as other things he did. He had me call up magic and he did the same thing. It was suffocating. It stayed over my mouth and nose until I could hardly breathe, until he finished up in me. He didn't let me clean myself, and Elaine saw me that way. He did it a few more times after that, but only when he was really angry. That was my punishment for when I did really bad things."

"What sort of things got you that punishment?"

"Trying to run away. I did it a few times, three or four. I got into town once, but he caught me pretty quickly after that. He told me running wouldn't do any good anyway, that there was nowhere for me to go anyway because I was an orphan and that meant he was the only one that wanted me. I ran anyway." I could feel myself making fists.

"Was that punishment given to Elaine as well?" He shrugged. I noticed that he seemed relaxed now, adding more weight to the theory that he wasn't really there, he was just talking. I wondered if he'd retreated into himself or something.

"Sort of. She said it wasn't punishment, for her. She said it was her reward for being good. He hardly ever actually went inside her, like he did to me, like she let me do to her. She said she just had to touch him, sometimes, or put her mouth on him. Her punishment was whipping, usually. He had a leather one he couldn't use on me much anymore because of the stuff on my back that he used on her, when she did something bad. She didn't do bad much."

"Did anything else warrant severe punishment for you?" A touch of Harry came back in the smirk he put on.

"Saying no. No was the worst word, to Master. No was something an apprentice was never ever supposed to say. I liked saying no. I'd say no when he asked me to cook, or clean, or entertain his friends, or cast spells when I didn't want to." A splash of surprise drifted over Boss' features, but it melted quickly.

"Friends?" Harry nodded.

"People who came over sometimes, to do things with Master. They liked having me around to serve them, and they liked to watch me do the magic tricks my dad taught me, before he died." Boss asked what he meant by magic tricks, and Harry plucked a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and draped it over his hand. "Count to three," he told Boss, and Boss did. Dresden then swept the handkerchief up and a frog jumped from his hand. He snapped a finger a few seconds after and it turned into an origami figure. "I'm better at card tricks, but I don't have a deck with me." Where did the sudden urge to sit in Harry's apartment and watch him do card tricks come from? I wanted to squash the thought, but it wouldn't quite leave. Either way, if he could do card tricks better than that whatever that was, he had to have some pretty spectacular card tricks. I thought suddenly of Harry's violent reactions to the offers Boss had made him, and suddenly understood. He'd obviously been kept much of his life. He probably didn't want to be kept anymore. Boss gave him a smile, patted his hand.

"I'd like you to tell me about the night you killed DuMorne, then." He winced, his eyes getting a little teary. Oh, hell.

"Boss, stop it." He didn't spare me a glance.

"Don't be mad at me. I had to, I had to! He was going to… he… it was bad, those few days, really, really bad and he was going to hurt me! He said I'd either be his or he'd make his monster eat me. Elaine made me go down to the basement and did something that made it so I couldn't move. Master got on top of me, he was chanting something, and I got a really bad headache. I heard someone telling me to yell Leansidhe three times, so I did, and time stopped for a minute. A really pretty red headed woman appeared, and said she was my godmother. She said she'd give me whatever I asked for, if I gave her myself. I agreed, and said I wanted to be able to stop Master. She told me how to cast a spell that would get rid of him, and then left. I cast the spell, and the basement caught fire. Elaine wouldn't come. I had to leave. Master's monster still came after me, though. It was so, so scary, but I killed it. Then you guys came and brought me here." What? We'd never met Dresden before that one case he solved. What the hell was he saying?

"We're done, Harry." Boss said suddenly, quietly, and the haze cleared from Harry's eyes.

"The hell?" I asked, softly. Harry sighed.

"Marcone's a Baron. He's got the right to hear any Council interview, verbatim, from the mouth of the accused so long as he's got the information from the file and can read the questions exactly how they were read on the day of the interview. The Council has long assumed that if the Baron asking has the transcript and all, then he must've gotten it through official means, or been deserving of it. I'm part of the Accords, but I'm a low-level citizen compared to him. Anything he can legally do to me in the Accorded agreement I have to go along with. Whole reason I had to come down here to begin with was that the damned Baron can insist on a meeting with any supernaturally inclined citizen of his Barony. You almost fucked up, by the way, asking about DuMorne's friends and magic tricks, and I really did nearly get to stop talking when you opened your mouth, Nate, that second time. If Marcone had acknowledged you I could have." Boss smirked.

"I believe I did rather well, for it being my first time inducing such a situation." Dresden shrugged.

"I'm not here to judge your technique. Why'd you want me to do that anyway, if you had the transcript?" He shook his head.

"I have no transcript. I don't even have the actual file, actually. Gard merely gave me a list, in order, of the things she said I'd need to say to keep you talking." Dresden hissed and bared his teeth.

"Fuck you, Marcone. You've gotten whatever thrill you wanted out of this now, right? You've properly pried into my life now? I'm leaving." Boss took him by the arm and forced him to stay seated.

"Why were you not found innocent from that interview?"

"The Merlin Soul Gazed with me. He said I was too damaged to bother saving, that I'd just get steadily worse until I became a Warlock. He said killing me would be the best option, so that's what they planned on doing."

"Despite what you told them?" He raised his eyebrows and laughed that bitter laugh again.

"I was a suspected Warlock. Lying is a Warlock's favorite pastime. Nearly all the older members of the Council knew and respected DuMorne, and I admitted to killing him with the help of a fairy, and anyone that could've proved my case was dead, or thought to be dead." Boss sneered, and pressed Harry a little harder into the chair. I took a half step forward, in warning to him. He'd seemed on edge most of the evening, and I sure as hell didn't want him to do something he'd regret.

"And the girl, Elaine, who you say cared for you, simply left you to that fate and ran off somewhere." Harry shoved him off and stood.

"Elaine had no idea what was happening to me. She was confused and disoriented, because of the sudden removal of the Thralls on her. Don't talk about things you know nothing about, Marcone." Boss snarled, and Harry was suddenly pressed into a wall with a crash. I was lucky, I supposed, that security had already left.

"You will address me with the respect befitting my title, wizard." Harry laughed, and, oh god, this wasn't going to turn out well for anyone involved. It couldn't, not with how things were going.

"I'm the one that allowed you to get the title in the first place, asshole. I don't owe you anything." Boss got a grip on his coat and slammed him into the wall again. His head bashed against it and a dizzy groan slid from his lips.

"I've always found it rather funny as well, that you'd inflate my status higher than your own, however I care very little, currently. You will call me Baron Marcone." Harry laughed; a high, twinkling laugh that suggested maybe Boss had forced him to hit his head too hard.

"I'll call you what I want and you'll like it."

"Harry," Boss hissed, and Harry grinned, his eyes flickering around the room. A keening giggle slipped from his mouth.

"Johnny Marcone's pissed at me!" he said, and laughed again, like that was something someone should find funny instead of dangerous, although I wasn't sure why Boss was so pissed at Harry to begin with.

"Boss, let him go. You hit his head too hard, look at him."

"Natey, Natey, trying to save me! I'm not some damsel in distress! I could get him off whenever I wanted, and I'd be in the right, because he's… um… attacking me." At the stupid nickname Harry had apparently decided on, now that Cujo was off the table, Boss shook him again. He flopped limply, like a ragdoll.

"Boss, I said stop. He's not acting right." A haze was drifting back over his flickering eyes, and he fell limp against the wall for a second, a small, pathetic moan working free. Boss finally seemed to realize that hey, Harry had suffered through more severe head injuries than that and kept right on going, that something else was probably going on. His hands loosened in the other man's jacket, and then he helped him over to his desk to sit. Dresden giggled again.

"See? You don't have to be mean to me. If you're… if people are nice to me, I listen. Baron Marcone. I do know how to listen, how to be good. I just do it on my own terms." The haze in his eyes shifted to reveal a sort of childish glint, but it went away quickly enough, and he rubbed his head. "Damn it, you didn't have to make me hit my head. It hurts." Boss stared.

"I apologize for not showing you better hospitality while you were under my roof." Harry sniffled, and pressed his fingers against the back of his head. When they came back around, I saw darker, wet patches on the gloves. Boss did too, and had Harry turn around. There was red in his hair, dribbling slowly down his neck, and Boss searched for the actual wound. Dresden hissed when it was touched.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it. Molly will need me to… to... I was going to make something for her tonight, a… one of those…. Stars and Stones… shield bracelet! I was going to make her a basic shield bracelet, like my old one, since she got the basics down during a snowstorm last year." What the hell had happened to him? Boss hadn't hit him all that hard, and the wound wasn't bleeding too badly, especially not for a head injury, but he seemed to be having severe concentration problems. Boss looked to be thinking the same thing.

"Get Gard." I went over to the intercom system and called for her, listening as Boss tried to keep Harry talking.

"I thought your new one worked better. Why are you making one like your old one for her?" Dresden's lips pursed and his eyes closed.

"She doesn't have the… the, uh, juice to support one like this." He jangled it for emphasis. "Plus it takes more time and concentration to use this one. She hasn't practiced enough yet, to support this one." Gard threw open the door and marched in, long legs carrying her quickly despite the business heels she was wearing. She pressed her hand hard against the back of Dresden's head and he whined loudly.

"Mr. Marcone, did I not tell you that performing that interview could cause some damage to his psyche? Or did you simply assume that, after performing a very trying mental task wherein he was forced to remember, in perfect detail, what is certain to be a painful memory, his brain would appreciate being bounced around in his skull?" Boss looked away.

"I apologize. He is not a simple man to deal with on the best of days."

"And love is not a simple emotion to handle when unrequited. I realize this; however it does not excuse the fact that you greatly endangered him with that foolishness. You are lucky that he is only concussed." What the hell was Gard talking about unrequited love? I looked into Boss' eyes, saw a flicker of pain, and oh hell. I wondered why the realization that Boss was in love with Dresden hurt me so much.

"Can you fix it?" Gard laughed.

"Mr. Marcone, I believe this man has had enough concussions in his life that he can heal from this one without my intervention."

"His head didn't hit that hard," Boss mumbled quietly, guiltily. Gard sighed.

"But he was weakened, and all damage to his brain was magnified. That light hit, which likely would not have affected him if he was in a normal state, has caused a mild concussion that will heal quickly and without further damage. He is fine, do not worry yourself." Boss nodded, and stood, Harry's head drifting lazily back, his eyes fluttering shut. Boss shook him back to wakefulness.

"Nathan, please bring the car around. We will escort him back to his apartment, and I assume his apprentice will be able to care for him from there." I nodded and left, and Gard followed me. She didn't speak until we'd gotten outside though, and fuck, Harry had walked all the way here in this? Snow was falling rapidly, the weather having taken a rapid shift from the relative calm of the afternoon, and was already a few inches deep. The wind was blowing harshly as well, cutting into my skin like ice. Gard still seemed unaffected, though.

"I apologize for the Baron's affection towards your dear heart." Gard has a really bad habit of saying things no one else in the damned room will understand. She seems to get some kind of sick pleasure in it. We got around to the garage and climbed in the car, pulling it around to the front door.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sigrun. You think maybe you can avoid talking in riddles for a day?" She smiled.

"Your dear heart, the wizard. You and the Baron both love him. I assumed it was difficult for you, and so offered my condolences." Me, loving the fucking wizard? That was stupid, and I told her as much. She looked at me, one blonde eyebrow hiked incredulously to her hairline, and her arms crossed over her chest. We exited the vehicle and walked inside, seeing Boss helping Harry stumble drunkenly down the stairs. "Lying does not become you, Nathan. Your gaze tells me that my assumption is closer to the truth than you would have me think." Boss helped him out to the car and slid him inside, allowed him to lean heavily against him and mumble dizzily, sometimes angrily when Boss would shake him awake. A sharp stab of something when through my heart, and I wondered if Gard was having some of her supernatural associates fuck with me. We pulled up to Dresden's apartment, and even though Boss obviously had things handled I went too. Just in case, you understand. To make sure the large man didn't take a tumble.


	5. Chapter 5

Molly answered the door worriedly when I knocked, and she gasped when she caught sight of Dresden's mostly limp form.

"What the hell did you guys do to him?" she accused, and Harry giggled quietly again, his hand reaching out to scruff her hair. She glared at him.

"I'm fine, Molly, just got a, uh… that c-word. Construction or something. I'll be groovy by morning." The fucking wizard said groovy and thought he had a construction. That seemed to worry Molly too, and she took him out of Boss' arms and into her own, although they looked sort of ridiculous, and dropped him down into the most uncomfortable looking chair in the room. I still probably could've gone to sleep on it, honestly, but Dresden shifted angrily and looking longingly at a different chair that had a book on the arm and a small dip in the cushion that seemed remarkably similar to the shape of Harry's ass. I didn't ask why I knew the shape of his ass that intimately. Molly pulled a lighter from her pocket and got the fire going, then did the same to a few of the candles scattered around the room. There was a pile of blankets on the couch, where I assumed she'd been before we came in, and Dresden's horse-dog was nosing insistently at his limp hand. He finally gave in and scrubbed the thing behind its ears. Molly was still in Dresden's t-shirt. She did invite us inside, though.

"What'd he do this time?" she asked quietly, settling back into the blanket nest she'd formed on the couch.

"Hit his head. Concussion," I supplied. She nodded.

"Common enough, then. He'll be fine. I should probably find his Tylenol though. He'll want it pretty soon."

"I will retrieve it. Where is it?" Boss stated, standing tensely, looking nervously, guiltily, at Harry and obviously wanting to help how he could, since the concussion was his fault. The girl yawned.

"Medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You can get there through his bedroom door right over there," she said, gesturing. "Be careful, though. He uses a straight razor to shave. I cut myself on it once, by accident, trying to get something out of there for him." Boss left to retrieve the pills, and Molly stood up and got a glass of water. The cup was glass and had the roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote on it. She sat it on the table beside him and he groped for it clumsily. She rolled her eyes and held the cup to his lips, where he drank gratefully. She was once again displaying just how much practice she'd had with stuff like this. When Boss returned with the pill bottle she opened it for him too, and popped two pills into his mouth, then lifted the water glass to help him swallow. "There's an icepack in the fridge over there. Can one of you grab it? I forgot it when I got the water." I went in and opened the little icebox, saw it was mostly stocked with beer and Coke and frozen dinners, and plucked out the small blue icepack I saw, then wrapped it up in a rag I saw on the counter. She flashed me a smile, but didn't put it on him right away. Instead she grabbed the little first aid kit again, cleaned the blood away, and used a Q-tip to dab alcohol on the cut. Dresden reacted this time, though, hissing at the touch of the little cloth she used to clean it and wincing at the alcohol. I guessed he just couldn't control himself as well, with the injury affecting him. She put the icepack on his head and held it there for a few seconds, until he got the idea and held it himself.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes, as the girl helped him take his duster and winter coat off, along with his right glove. She definitely knew about the scarring, then, knew he didn't want others to see it. I wondered what his back looked like, after what he'd said DuMorne did to it. As if reading my mind, she tugged his shirt off of him too, and got a grumble of protest and annoyance in response, even though his back stayed towards the chair and out of sight.

"I can take off my own clothes, grasshopper," he grunted, though he did shift a little to help her, since it was taking some maneuvering because of the icepack.

"Yeah, and if you tried right now, you'd fall and kill yourself. I'm trying to make you more comfortable, like Ms. Murphy does." She looked a little hurt at her own words, and I recognized that hurt as jealousy. The lady cop had known Harry for years, I knew, probably helped him out of more bad scrapes than most anyone else. She was pretty, too, and even without magic I'd seen her hold her own against some nasty shit. That battle in the Deeps, at Raith Manor, stood out specifically. Molly probably felt inadequate around her. Hell, to be honest I sort of did too. She was five foot nothing, looked like a cheerleader, and she could immobilize me. It was kind of embarrassing, honestly. Boss just looked pitiful, or as pitiful as he can ever bring himself to look. I couldn't believe how I'd managed to miss how he felt about the wizard all this time, even though it was so obvious, looking back on it now.

"Kid, Karrin has seen my naked ass enough times that she's accustomed to it. You haven't, and I'd prefer you didn't have to. Same with those two idiots over there." There was a look on her face that suggested she wouldn't mind getting used to seeing his naked ass. All three of us ignored it politely, and watched as she settled him in the chair and put a blanket over him. "You know, Padawan, you're lucky that there are two of you at the moment. If there weren't I wouldn't stand for this."

"Shut up, Obi-Wan. Thanks for getting him back here, Nathan, Mr. Creepy Voice. I'll make sure he stays up for the night." I paused in front of the door, and hated myself for what I said next, because it was unnecessary, and I was attempting to pretend to come from a good place.

"You've got school in the morning, don't you Molly? I'll stay here for the night and watch him for you." She looked so happy it almost made me look away, and Boss actually looked a little upset, like maybe he'd have said the same thing if he'd thought of it. What Gard had said was rushing through my mind over and over as I looked at the vaguely loopy wizard on the chair, staring dazedly into the fire. The hand not holding the icepack to his head was drifting through the air, creating shapes. I recognized a pentacle, a few times, but the rest looked mostly like scribbles. She saw me looking.

"He always does that when he gets a concussion. He says it helps him stay awake, focus on something when no one's talking directly to him." Boss paused at the door.

"Mr. Hendricks, I suppose I will return for you in the morning." I nodded and smiled at him.

"Of course, Boss." Molly waved.

"Bye, Mr. Creepy Voice." I finally noticed how that particular nickname seemed to piss him off, even though it wasn't much better than Harry's usual criminal scumbag thing, although by now that had turned into more of a pet name than anything else. He left, and the door slammed heavily. Harry jumped. "You can take him into his room, I guess. He's got candles in there that you can light. Do you need my lighter?" I nodded, and she handed it to me. The thing was candy apple red, and had a small fire graphic on it in bright neon orange. I nodded, and hefted Harry up as she nestled back into the blankets. I blew out the candles on the way, and asked Harry if the fire could stay lit. He nodded.

"Yeah, I made it so it couldn't escape the hearth a long time ago, after I almost caught the place on fire the first week or so I lived here. I was getting a really good deal on this place, so I didn't want to make the landlady mad with me so quickly." I wondered what constituted a good deal on a rundown hole in the wall like this.

"What, she give this place to you for free or something?" He tried to shake his head, but that seemed to make him dizzy, so he leaned it against my shoulder until we got to his bedroom and I sat him down, then set to lighting all the candles he had in there. By the end of it, the room was lit with a warm orange glow, and smelled sweet.

"Reduced rent, since for me she doesn't have to pay for electricity or hot water or gas. I got my office cheap too, but Nick helped me get the down payment on that. I owe him. That's why I help him out when I can, whenever he needs me to find anything. Nick used to lose things a lot. He said having me around was great on his wallet, since he stopped having to go get new keys made, and get new licenses printed up. He'd even buy me beer, even though I was still underage, when we met. Said anyone who'd seen and done all I had deserved a drink. He's a good man," Harry mumbled, and the candlelight cast shadows on his face, defined the hollows of his cheeks, made him look almost ghostly, insubstantial. I nodded, and he shifted on his bed, a little, leaned back against the pile of pillows he had. I didn't see the point of all of them, and none of them matched anyway, but they seemed to make him happy nonetheless.

"I don't see how you live without hot water. It's got to be hell on a hard on every morning." I had no idea why I said that. Apparently spouting inappropriate shit was going to become a habit around the damned wizard. I blamed Gard, even though I'd said stupid stuff before she babbled her insane theory too. He laughed noisily anyway, and his head pressed softly into the pillows. His free hand was tapping out a beat on his upper thigh, and I sat on the tiny, threadbare wooden chair he kept in the room, though I did move it closer to the bed first.

"I guess so. Really, you vanillas are spoiled rotten on it, I swear. Thomas used to call my shower my Chamber of Masochism. Said he couldn't get any good shower sex in my house. Or any good bed sex, since my bed was too small. He did say the by the fire sex was amazing, though. I wouldn't really know. I'm pretty sure the kinkiest place I've ever even sort of fucked in this house was down in my lab, but there were extenuating circumstances surrounding that that resulted in me fighting a demon buck ass naked with soap in my hair. Besides, I think cold water being hell on a hard on is pretty useful for me." Well now, wasn't he open when he had a head injury? I was a little bored; maybe I could get something funny out of this.

"Why?"

"I don't masturbate." Oh holy fucking shit. I hadn't expected that. I hadn't even known there were people that still didn't do that. That made me hard, for what had to be some god-awful fucked up reason. Oh, hell. Hell, fuck, shit, balls. This had to be Gard's fault. I could almost hear her laughing. He grinned, wide and with most of his teeth, at the shock I'm sure was evident on my face. "Stop looking at me like that. It's not for any religious reasons or something, and it isn't like I'm scared I'll go blind, it's just that doing that it's bad for focus. There's a reason why you don't find many sexed up wizards running around. Sex, whether solo or with a partner, is dangerous for us, because a lot of energy gets released or mingles with someone else's. Plus the body fluid produced from that can be used for just as many nasty things as blood. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I went out because of something like that, don't you think? Besides, I don't get much out of masturbation anyway, at least not the one or two times I tried it." My dick twitched, and I closed my eyes, attempting to will it down, because this was really embarrassing, and if he caught me… I thought of something I could say, to make him think it wasn't for him, if he saw it.

"So what, Molly doesn't either?" He gave me a harsh glare suddenly.

"Don't even think about it, big boy. The kid's pretty much got two overprotective fathers, and a completely feral mother. You even look at her sideways I'll kick your ass." I nudged his booted foot.

"Yeah, because you can do a lot right now."

"I can blast you across the room whether I can see you properly or not. This is a tiny apartment, and you're a big guy. If I throw enough force around, then I'm bound to hit you." I rolled my eyes.

"I wouldn't do anything, Dresden. She's a kid. Doesn't mean I can't recognize that she's pretty. Besides, you're the one she wants to do." Harry groaned.

"Yeah, yeah, she's a cute kid. It's a little hard for me to recognize that, though, because I knew her when she was a toddler who hid behind her mom's legs whenever I came around. Her brother Daniel was the only one that really took to me fast, at that age, but he's a boy, and I was a badass who came around smelling like smoke and dead monster. He thought I was cool. Molly thought I was scary. And even still, she looks way too much like her mom for me to be comfortable. Her mom is the most frightening woman I've ever met, and I've been drooled on by Red Court ladies, seduced by Lara Raith, bled by my Godmother, and forced to stab my own hand with a letter opener by Queen Mab. I've met some scary women." I laughed and shook my head at him, even though some of that sounded a little dark. I wondered what being bled felt like, and why the woman he called his Godmother would do it to him. Couldn't have been good, if she used his blood against him. Of course, if I was remembering correctly, his Godmother was a fairy named Leansidhe, and fairies did some fucked up shit.

"How'd she go from thinking you were the monster in the closet to having a crush on you?" He shrugged.

"Teenage rebellion, I think. She sees me, going off with her dad and fighting monsters, coming back bloody and bruised, and she sees how much her mom dislikes me. Recipe for teenage love, I think. Girls almost always like the bad boys at that age, and to her, I'm probably the definition of bad boy." I nodded, and stared at him for a second. Or longer than a second, I don't know. He probably didn't notice. "You know, most people who don't know me, and a few who do, think I live here to torture myself. They think I did some horrible thing in my past, think I feel as though I deserve punishment." He was sprawled over the bed, at least as much as someone his height could sprawl on that tiny bed, and his feet were hanging off the end of it, his eyes open and aware, obviously quickly recovering from his injury. I had heard that some people could do that, come off of a concussion in a few hours. I probably should've guessed that he'd be one of them. He was still chatty though, like some censor in his brain was shut off. My erection was going down, at the very least.

"Do you? Think you did something worthy of punishment, I mean." He shrugged.

"I've done a lot of bad things in my life. I'm not… I'm not a good person. A lot of people think I am. They think I'm some tragic hero, living to save a world that doesn't acknowledge me, a world that's dealt me a shitty hand in every round of my life. That isn't me, though. I just want to save my own ass, more often than not, and the asses of those few people I give a fuck about."

"Why are you telling me that?" He shrugged again.

"I don't know. I'm tired, and I have a concussion. I talk a lot, when I'm injured, and by now there aren't many of my terrible secrets you don't know. You've got my time with DuMorne, Elaine, Hell's Bells; you've even got my old jobs. What's the point in not letting you hear my injured babble about how I'm not the hero everyone thinks I am, about how sometimes I get scared that the Merlin is right about me and I'm going to turn into some kind of monster. I could, you know. If I wanted, I could be the new Kemmlar. I could be Nicodemus' new right hand. He's offered often enough. I could take over this whole place, and chances are I could make it so the other Wardens couldn't put a finger on me. I could be the new Winter Knight. I could let the Leansidhe have me. I could sell myself to Johnny. I could even just shoot myself in the head and call it quits. Stones, there are a lot of offers I could take, a lot of things I could do. I'm pretty sure I've been offered a cookie from damn near every dark side there is, and I'm definitely sure I've been offered comfort and safety and protection and a way out of all the problems in my life. But I'm not going to take them, and I'm not going to accept those ways out. Know why?" I was breathing faster than I should've been, and I saw something in his eyes, sadness, pain, anger, a lot of things, things that had been brewing and festering deep inside him like a maggot infested wound.

"Why?" All that emotion in his eyes went away, and the glint I was used to came back, along with a sidelong smile. The tension in the room fled just like that.

"Because I'm too fucking stubborn for my own good." I laughed, held my head in my hand and sighed.

"Damn right. And you're too much of a pain in the ass to ever agree to someone else's terms." He snickered.

"You know me so well." The room felt a little muzzy after that, as though this was a hollowed out space of comfort and safety where anything could be said and it wouldn't leave the area. He was being friendly, accommodating, chatty, and I figured there wasn't much I could say that would upset him, right then, so I said what I wanted.

"Can I see your back?" He blinked.

"Huh?"

"The ritual scars." Harry rolled his eyes.

"I don't have them anymore. Wizards can heal better than most mortals. Any scar I get eventually fades, see?" He rolled over, and presented his back, which, except for a long, pale white mark running parallel to his spine, was clear of scars. "They're just as dead and gone as he is." I nodded as he rolled back over, and tried not to think about how nice the swell of his ass had looked in those jeans he was wearing.

"So your hand…"

"It'll heal, yeah. Eventually. My doctor even got me playing guitar, to help it heal quicker, and it's been working pretty well. I've got a lot more use back in it, now. Like, I can even manage to hold stuff with it, without dropping it I mean, now. And it doesn't look nearly as much like a lump of melted wax anymore." I winced, and watched as he worked his boots free and kicked them into the floor, even though he nearly swooned when he sat up, making it obvious that no, he wasn't better yet. "What the hell happened, anyway? I remember trying to leave, and the next thing I knew I was in the car with you and Marcone."

"You tripped and fell," I said, "Hit your head. Gard said it probably wouldn't have affected you, but because of the interview thing Boss did with you, the damage to your brain was amplified." He nodded, and jerked his socks free, wiggled his toes, and then shimmied out of his jeans and kicked them to the floor as well. He then dropped back onto the bed again, looking far more sexualized than he had a right to. I shut my eyes for a second and leaned back, and thought, remembered the potion that was in the basement, remembered how the DuMorne fucker had… had raped him. I wondered how he was able to strip so casually in front of me, after that. He saw me doing that, and rolled his eyes unhappily.

"You're going to start looking at me differently now, aren't you? That's why I don't tell anyone about that stuff." I stared, and he sighed. "What do you think bad guys are more freaked out by? The scrawny fucker whose master fucked him because he was a 'bad child' or the badass in the big black coat with the mysterious past? You pity me now, and I despise pity." That made me laugh, and I shook my head.

"Harry, I couldn't pity you if I wanted to. I've seen what you can do. You getting abused as a child… that doesn't mean anything. You worked past it, and you're still alive. You beat the monsters, and you help some kids that are still suffering, right? I've heard about how you get rid of monsters stalking kids, and don't ask for payment. You're one of the strongest people I've met." He actually blushed a little.

"Thanks I guess, Nathan. That's actually pretty nice of you. Stones, wasn't ever expecting I'd say that in my life."

"Do you, uh, want to talk about it?" He laughed, bitter and low.

"What's left to say? He got off on making me lick his boots? He took lessons from the Marquis de Sade? Christ. He was fucked up. He probably made me fucked up. He definitely made Elaine fucked up. But like you said, we got out. He's dead, dead and gone, and he's not coming back. He burned for what he did to me, and if that god up there is really as just as Michael keeps telling me, he's still burning. Why don't we talk about something else?" Yeah, I thought, yeah, that'd probably be good. I didn't know if I could… god, what it had to have been like. I couldn't imagine it. I'd had a pretty good life, all in all. I had two parents that loved me, and no, I never had too many friends, not before Boss, but I did have friends, and I'd had girlfriends, and I was going to college and getting a degree. I had good books and good beer. Harry had had… not much of that. He still managed to smile, though, to go out into the world and to fight for what he thought was right. He actually seemed… not quite happy, but content with his life. I nodded.

"Of course. How's Molly's training going?" His lips quirked up in a half smile.

"Pretty well. Kid still thinks she can follow me anywhere, you know? Just throws a veil over herself and climbs into the backseat. I've caught her pulling that at least ten times, by now." I grinned.

"She wants to help." He nodded.

"Yeah, I know. That's sort of the problem, honestly. She feels like she can do whatever I do, but she really, really can't. I mean, she tries, yeah, she does her best, and she's damn good at a lot of things, but it's still dangerous. I don't want her to get hurt. Hey, you know you don't have to sit in that chair right? I know it's pretty fucking uncomfortable. You can lie beside me. It'll be a little cramped, but I'll assume infinitely more comfortable." Oh come on. Was Gard in his head or something? Trying to make me believe that ridiculous idea that was getting harder and harder to see as a lie? I climbed into the bed beside him, and he shifted over as much as he could, but about half of him was still practically on top of me. I huffed out a breath, and he snickered. "What, uncomfortable sharing a bed with the potentially gay wizard? Don't worry, I promise I won't make out with you in your sleep or something."

"I'm not going to sleep."

"Sorry, Natey, I don't put out on the first date. Not much for you to do up here besides sleep." I could feel my face heat up, and he laughed. I could feel it vibrate down the arm he was mostly on top of, and down the side of my chest. It was hard work to keep my breathing steady.

"Dick. You've got a concussion, you can't go to sleep, and I need to keep you awake." He heaved a sigh.

"With scintillating conversation, no doubt. Stars and Stones, Nate, I'm fine. I've had concussions before, a lot worse than this one. My headache is gone, I'm not dizzy anymore, all that. It's been hours, I'm good. We can both go to sleep."

"I'd rather be safe than wake up with you in a coma." He grunted, and actually allowed his head to flop over onto my shoulder. I tensed, and he snickered.

"Shut up, it's comfy. I like being close to people, and I don't get to do it often." I know he'd asked me not to bring it up, but I couldn't help it, not really, and I shifted so my arm went around his waist and over his hip in an early apology.

"You used to have haphephobia, though."

"I know. Eventually, I figured out that there were very few people out there who were like him. They're out there, yeah, but I finally discovered that most people weren't going to do what he did, and after years of avoiding touch, I ended up getting a little hungry for it. I don't do it with many people, though." I patted his hipbone (which could have been registered as a legal weapon for how sharp it was) in what I hoped was a comforting way. He nuzzled into my throat a little, his hair tickling my face and his eyelashes brushing against my jaw.

"And how did I make it through your discerning eye?" I felt more than saw him shrug.

"I don't know why, but I trust you. I assume it has something to do with my life getting bared in front of you and you not attempting to use it against me. You actually trying to play therapist or something kind of sealed the deal, I think." I shrugged back at him, felt his body shift over me a little, and he smiled into my neck.

"Well, I'm majoring in philosophy, not psychology. They're certainly not the same thing, but you've got to know something about people for them both." I felt his breath against my throat, and noticed that my thumb had begun to stroke absentminded circles in his hip. I didn't stop, and I tried to remember if Gard had ever been wrong. I couldn't recall a time. Would it really be so bad, I thought, to love Harry Dresden? He was attractive enough; I'd pointed it out to myself pretty often. Willing to go for guys, he'd said so himself. He was funny, and smart as well, and I was damned sure I'd get no shortage of excitement, with him around. No, I thought, dating Harry wouldn't be that bad at all, except for one thing; Boss loved him too.

"You're going to college?" He didn't have to sound so fucking surprised about that. I'd known he thought I was an idiot, but goddamn, did it really go that deep?

"Yeah."

"Huh. How do you find the time, what with all the mobster-ing you do?"

"Is that was surprised you? I figured you were just reconciling with the fact that I'm not as stupid as you thought I was."

"I never thought you were stupid. John wouldn't hire someone, and work as close with them as he does with you, if he didn't think they were intelligent. I'm sure the fact that you look like you could bench-press a semi helped his decision along, though." Dresden's laugh was warm. I smiled fondly, and Harry curled into me with a certain finality that suggested he was going to sleep no matter what I'd been saying, but I jostled him a little to keep him firmly in the world of the living. This obviously upset him quite a lot, but I was far past caring. Over the years, the idiot had managed to grow on me, apparently more than even I had originally assumed. From what I'd seen, he had a bad habit of hooking himself to people and not letting go until they either killed him or grew to care for him. I'd done the latter, and as yet no one had managed the former. Wanting to kill him, though, I was positive he had plenty of people there. I did too, though, so I guessed it didn't much matter. I wanted to look after him, make sure he didn't get hurt, but it seemed he was willing to fight against that tooth and nail because the idiot kept trying to get me to let him go to sleep.

"Harry, stop it." I felt him purse his lips, and then his face appeared in front of mine from the nook he'd created in my neck. He stuck his tongue out at me. I lunged up and kissed him. He grunted from the shock, his eyes wide and oh shit I shouldn't be looking into his eyes like that but it was too late, and I was drawn into him.


	6. Chapter 6

My first thought was that it didn't look like a soul. I didn't know what I expected, actually, but it wasn't this. Maybe flashing lights or fire or something, but this was… sort of the exact opposite of that. I was standing in the middle of an open field, and there was wind, light and teasing and soft. There was a woman there too, and I wondered who she was to Harry, because she was beautiful. She was tall, for a woman, probably at least six feet, and she was slender too. There was something similar to Harry's blasting rod in her hand, and I realized she was the one making the wind. She smiled at me, teeth glinting in the late afternoon sun overhead. Her long, dark hair was tied up in a high ponytail at the top of her head, and her bright morning sky blue eyes were bright and twinkling. She was so wonderfully alive it was amazing, and she walked over to me. I coughed. She laughed, and the sound of it was actually a little harsh. She had a scar on her neck, just under her ear, and it looked like someone had attempted to cut her jugular.

"Hello, Nathan," she said, and her head cocked a little to one side. That, too, reminded me of a move Harry had pulled on occasion. The wind stopped.

"Hey," I mumbled, and stared down at my feet. She was intimidating, to be perfectly honest, and if she had any of the skill Harry did… well, I didn't want to piss her off. She shook her head.

"You mustn't be frightened of me, dear. My name is Margaret, but I suppose you may call me Maggie. Most I knew did."

"Huh?" She seemed to be growing exasperated with me, as though I had been expected to recognize the name.

"Perhaps I need to introduce myself. Margaret Gwendolyn LeFay-Dresden. Harry's mother." Oh. Well. I cleared my throat.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Nathan Hendricks, but I guess you already knew that. Aren't you, uh, dead?" I got another boisterous, clear laugh for that.

"Yes. What you see before you is merely an imprint of myself that I placed into Harry's soul before that treacherous bastard killed me." I made another questioning noise. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, her blasting rod hanging expertly from daintily thin fingers. I was pretty sure those dainty fingers could break my neck, if she wanted them to. "Lord Raith, my former lover. He was… displeased, when I left him, more displeased when he was unable to find me, and still more displeased when I met and married Harry's father Malcolm. He killed me mere moments after Harry was born. This, however, is only the second time I have been revealed to one questing within his soul, and it is quite unexpected, as I only arranged to be revealed to Thomas." I cocked my head.

"Why him?"

"Were you not paying attention? I was the lover of Lord Raith. Do you see no reason why I would, perhaps, like to be revealed to his only surviving son, Thomas Raith?" It took a second for the pieces to fit, but when they did a hell of a lot became clear.

"Thomas is Harry's brother." She nodded.

"Indeed. At Thomas' birth, I gave him the twin to Harry's amulet, and placed an imprint similar to this one in his soul, so that once he and Harry found one another, they'd know who they were to each other. However, I question my reason for being revealed to you. It should not have happened. In fact, this imprint should have been erased after that Soul Gaze occurred." I wasn't sure what to say to that, and as I watched her, I suddenly smelled smoke coming from the distance. "It seems that you see souls as a defining moment in a person's life, unlike myself and Harry. Please, do go forward. I suppose I am meant to accompany you." I walked without meaning to, Harry's mother matching me step for step, long legs carrying her with graceful ease.

"How do the two of you see them?" I asked quietly, mindlessly, getting ever closer to the rising smoke and feeling a bit worried as I got an idea of what this moment was.

"As an abstract scene that depicts the essence of a person. No two people see souls in exactly the same way, however. Where I may look upon you and see one thing, Harry will see something different, despite the fact that we see them in the same way." I took a moment to actually look at her closely as she spoke, and admired her stark beauty. Her thin face was pale, even in the bright sun overhead, though her cheeks were flushed with pale pink. Her lips, more full than would be expected, were painted shiny red to match the long dress that swished around her ankles. A corset was wrapped tightly around her middle, defining meager curves, but even those were mostly hidden by the heavy looking brown coat over her shoulders. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, and Harry had to have taken after his mother. She saw me looking. "He has his father's eyes, you know. That made me so happy, when he was born. I always loved Malcolm's eyes, and it pleased me that a pair so similar, so bright with life, was my last sight. Do you, perhaps, love my dear son? I know he now looks much like me." We were getting ever closer to the smoke, and I saw no reason to lie, not after I'd just up and kissed him in the real world, not after I'd accepted what Gard told me.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"I suppose that's why I'm here, then, to give my approval. You seem to be a good enough man, though I must say I never was the best judge of character. Malcolm was, perhaps, the only exception in that. Take care of him, for me, now that I no longer can. He has long been forced to clean up my messes. He'll… I'd like him to have the help." She disappeared, and the sky grew suddenly dark. Stars appeared, bright and glittering in the sky beside a full moon, even though it was a cloudy night, even though a building was blazing and the scent of burning wood and something else, something darker, filled the air. Harry was on his knees in front of the building, but he wasn't the Harry I knew yet. There still seemed to be far too much of him, but his eyes were almost too wide on his face, and he hadn't quite grown into his hands and feet yet. His hair was long and tangled and hung a little below his shoulders. He was crying, and the tears were leaving stains in the soot. There was a lovely red head beside him, her hand on his head, her face blank and yet somehow caring. Her eyes were gold, and the pupils were vertical slits. Fairy.

"Godson, I've granted your request. By your hand, your tormentor is no more. Now you must give me your life." He stood and jerked away from her.

"What?"

"Your life, my child. I'll have it now." His eyes flitted around desperately.

"Time. Please, give me time!" Her stare was solid.

"You haven't got time, my sweet. DuMorne's final attack dog will be here soon, and I fear even my own ability to kill it, though in its current form it will be slightly weakened. Come to my domain, little one, and I will keep you as my own, keep you safe and young and happy." Harry stepped back further.

"Will you walk into my parlour, said the spider to the fly," he whispered, and she stepped closer, a thin smile on her unearthly lovely face.

"Shall I tell you of your lovely wings, little fly? Or perhaps of your pretty eyes? Sweet child, your mother trusted me to be your godmother. Will you not trust her judgment?" Harry kept moving farther away, and she kept chasing him.

"I never knew my mom. I don't… I don't know who you are. Just time, please. Five years, that's all I want, and then I'm yours." She released a laugh.

"You've much to learn when dealing with the Fay, my child, and yet I'd feel a monster, were I to take advantage of a babe in the woods such as yourself. I'll do as you wish, and bother you not for five years to the day, and then I'll return to collect you." He nodded, breathless and afraid and she was gone. A dark, shadowy beast swept from the burning house's door shortly after, and went right towards Dresden. He screamed, and he fought wildly, tooth and nail, and he nearly died multiple times. I shot towards the thing on instinct, but my bullets passed right through, and Harry didn't even acknowledge the sound they made. I was as good as a ghost here, it seemed. The thing fell suddenly, and turned into ectoplasm. Harry passed out, and a tall, broad man in a gray cloak came and picked him up. I was back in the real world with a sudden shock, my lips still on Harry's. His eyes were wide, and still locked on mine. He pulled away with a gasp.

"Holy shit," he whispered, almost reverent, but not frightened or even angry. My own breath was coming in heavy huffs. His lips had felt nice, and he'd tasted strongly of too-sweet coffee.

"What?" I asked, not quite back in the real world. He shook his head.

"Blue. It was… really blue. And solid. Strong. A little cluttered, though. There are… a lot of things you care about, passionately. You're loyal to a fault. It looks like a soldier's soul, actually. A little like my Warden's, but his was red, not blue." I stared at him, and he gave a tiny, wavering smile. "Blue, at least to me, means defense, and red means offense. That means you care more about keeping those things you care about looked after, about building a safe environment for them, rather than immediately going all bloodthirsty on anything in your path."

"Why are you telling me?"

"People usually like to know what I see, when I do that. Sometimes they don't, if they're a wizard or some other mostly mortal thing from my side of the fence, but vanilla mortals like you generally do. Hey, should I ask about what you just did, Natey?" I flinched a little, and looked away from him. He was still settled on my hips, though, and there was no way he didn't feel my hard on. I wondered what I could even say. Oh, see, well here's the thing, turns out I'm in love with you and I didn't know until my Valkyrie-partner-sort-of-friend told me, and I actually have no self-control so I kissed you, possibly at the cost of my own life because hey, Boss loves you too. I didn't think that would go over too well.

"Uh," I tried. I don't think I've ever heard someone release such a heavy breath. I hadn't even known his lungs were that big, actually.

"Nathan. There aren't that many reasons for suddenly kissing someone, and honestly, not a lot of them are ones I'd be happy about. If you don't tell me what's going on, I'm going to assume mind whammy, and removing those hurts like hell, especially if one isn't actually there." And I had no doubt that he'd do it without checking, out of pure spite. He didn't like killing, I'd long known that, but hurting? Yeah, he'd do that without too awful many second thoughts, if he thought the one he was hurting had wronged him or a loved one in some way. I still didn't know how to word what I was feeling, though, which was sort of strange, considering how much poetry I'd read, how many love confessions, how many theories on the origins and idiocies of love and affection and other similar things. 'I love you' is a hard thing to say, though, no matter who you're talking to, and when you're talking to someone with the capability to kill you and leave no evidence the police could pick up on, someone who has been hurt brutally before, it's even harder.

"I… I really like you," I managed to force out. Like? Christ, was I in elementary school again? I could feel heat rising on my cheeks, and looked away again. I've been told pretty often that red heads like me shouldn't blush, and I probably looked like a fucking cherry or something. He shifted, and a short groan managed to force its way out of my throat at the movement. I could feel the blush spreading up to my ears and down my neck. His long, bony fingers pressed into my jaw and turned my face back forward, to look at him. I expected anger, but that wasn't what I got. His shoulders had lost the tense set I was used to, and his smile curved him lips welcomingly. His eyes were warm and unafraid, lacking the normal spark of paranoia I'd come to expect when looking at him. The angles of his face were softened by the expression, and no longer looked like they'd cut me if I touched him. It was strange to see him so openly relaxed, and I realized that this must be how his friends felt. I wondered if they realized how lucky they were, to see him that way so often. He poked my nose, and I crinkled it up out of habit. He snickered.

"Yeah, that monster pressing into my ass really feels like just 'like'. I like donuts, Natey boy, I don't get like that. Tell me the truth." And he'd never make anything easy, because that just wasn't how he worked. Everything had to be a fight, with him, even when he was soft and open and gentle and beautiful. When I didn't answer right away, he let go of my jaw to poke his bony pointer finger into my chest. I could hardly feel it, though, and blood was rushing in my ears so fast and hard I felt dizzy. He shifted again, and he had to be fucking with me. "Come on, Nathan. Answer me." His feet are cold where they worm their way under my calves. I could feel them even through my jeans.

"I… would you try to hit me if I said I loved you?" His welcoming smile shifted into a sort of crooked smirk.

"I don't know, since you haven't said you loved me. I react on instinct, you understand. No telling what I'd do. Maybe you should stop talking in hypotheticals." He really was a special kind of asshole. I wondered if I'd like him so much if he wasn't. I wondered when I'd started to feel this way about him, and couldn't come up with anything. It had just happened, from what I could tell, a slow shift from thinking he was a crazy moron, to grudgingly respecting him, to seeing him as a sort of sometimes ally, to thinking of him as a friend, and then to… this. To loving the huge fucking idiot.

"I love you, Harry motherfucking Dresden." He laughed, low and teasing, then tried to look thoughtful for a second.

"Was that so hard?" He leaned down, then, and pressed a small kiss to the corner of my mouth, eyes closed, and my own shut shortly after, because even though it was chaste, delicate, it felt good because it was him. I still had my hands determinedly not on him, though, despite the fact that he was still settled on top of me. He pulled up and rolled his eyes, then grabbed my wrists, one in each of his hands, and settled my hands on his hips. "I won't break, you know. You are allowed to touch me." My breath was coming in heavy pants, and he kept up his smile.

"I don't… I… with what happened to you, I don't want to push. I don't want to hurt you." His laugh was sharp and cutting and thrilling and god, but I wanted to hear it again and I was so far gone I could hardly think. My hand was squeezing and releasing his hip periodically. He leaned down, and our breath mingled.

"That was a long time ago, Nathan. You couldn't do this if I didn't want you to. No one will ever do that to me again, you hear me? My body is my own," he said, voice a hiss, and I hadn't heard him speak that way before. Those words were the only indication he'd shown that he feared someone would do what DuMorne had again, but I believed him. If he didn't want me to touch him, he could have me across the room with little more than a word, and I doubted that there were many things out there that could say otherwise, if he was scared or angry enough.

"I know. But I still don't want to hurt you." His face regained that soft quality, and his lips resumed their welcoming curl. He pressed a soft kiss onto my lips, and I again tasted too-sweet coffee.

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried. I like you, Nathan. I'd have thought that'd be pretty obvious. I don't crawl all over people like this. I don't let people I don't care about follow me all over town. I don't just let people I don't see as a friend get away with learning about what you've learned about." I tried to sort of follow him as he pulled away from my lips, but he pressed his palm into my chest in order to tell me he'd rather I stay there. He ground his ass into my dick, and I groaned, my eyes clenching shut. "Don't be too loud. I don't want Molly to wake up."

He kept up the incessant wiggling, before he slid down my body. God, but he could be sensual. I'd have never guessed it. I wondered, for one jealous, covetous second, if the Rodriguez woman had seen him this way, with his lips lifted just so and that warm lust in his eyes and that affection tingeing everything he did. I wondered if he really did feel how I did, and he had to, because he wasn't the type for casual sex, was he? But his brain had been knocked around recently and he might not be in his right mind but he was opening my pants and god, I was human, I couldn't think rationally right then. Gard would be ashamed. Boss would be ashamed. Oh, shit, Boss. Boss loved him too. I couldn't… I couldn't betray him that way. He slid my cock out of my boxers and looked at it appraisingly. I'd never had anyone who could actually make me feel inadequate about my equipment, but he was managing it pretty well with that look.

"Don't, please. Harry… I need to… we need to talk first." He let go of me and nodded. He rocked back to perch on his heels, looking like a ridiculously oversized bird. Maybe a stork.

"Good thing you're more clearheaded than me. Which is sort of weird, considering you're the one being offered a blowjob. I guess it's because I've got a head injury, sort of. Even though I've been fine for at least a half hour, but still." Well, I hadn't exactly realized I was being offered a blowjob. If I had, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be quite so clearheaded. I had a feeling that he could do more than talk shit with that mouth of his. I groaned a little.

"How about you stop saying stuff like that, because I'm not nearly as clearheaded as I should be. We can't… I can't do anything with you. I love you, I do, but I can't." He cocked his head.

"Why not? I'm willing; I've got feelings for you too. I've been trying to show them to you, but you, somehow, are denser than I am." I had to look away from him. I wondered how long he'd had feelings for me, how long I'd steadfastly ignored them, if we'd fallen for each other at the same unspecified time.

"Because Boss… he loves you too. I can't betray him that way." Harry broke into a laugh that would've likely been far louder if Molly wasn't asleep in the next room. His hands were cool on my thighs, but not frozen like his feet had been. His skinny, pale chest was rising up and down steadily, if a little quickly, and if I looked closely I thought I could almost see his heart thumping there.

"John Marcone loves me? I don't know who slipped you some crack, but you might want to go talk to them. I think it was laced with pure concentrated stupid." I huffed out a laugh I didn't really feel.

"He does. Gard told me so, just like she made me realize that I loved you. Gard isn't… she just isn't wrong, ever. At least, I've never known her to be wrong. And once she told me, I started to see it to, in the little things. How he's always got someone on you. How much he cares about you being safe. Hell, the simple fact that he's letting you live after all the shit you've done, after the disrespect you show him, should've tipped me off, honestly." Harry actually looked lost, perched there on the end of his bed between my spread legs, and there was a sudden, pale flush high on the apples of his cheeks and I had to look away.

"Johnny Marcone loves me. That's… that's really stupid, Nathan." I smiled, sad, and yeah, I knew Boss was better looking than me. If he… if he wanted Boss instead now, I'd understand, but he wasn't that fickle, was he?

"You think I don't know that? It's still true, though. It's still… look, I know Boss is… you'd probably rather have him. I get it. Don't worry about it." Harry's dark eyes went narrow, and I noticed suddenly that there were flecks of blue in the black.

"Marcone is good looking, I'll give you that. I've looked at him before. He's an ally, and someone I respect, if not because I want to, but if you think I'd be so… if you think I'd just be drawn into that just because you say he has feelings for me, you're a bastard. A lot more of one than I thought. I just told you that I had feelings for you, didn't I? Fucker. I'm not the type of girl to get pulled in my nothing more than money and a pretty face." I let go of breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and caught his blazing eyes just because now I could.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know that. You're not that kind of person. I shouldn't have said that." He went wide eyed and smirked, and the tension fled. That was a skill of his, I realized, to make tension disappear with little more than a shift in expression.

"Aw, you're just saying that so I'll suck your dick." I laughed again, but this time it was because I was genuinely happy. I'd always been on Boss' side, hadn't I? Always. Ever since we'd met, I'd done things to further him, to help him. He was my best friend. I truly wanted this, though, with all of myself, I truly loved Harry. There wasn't any way for this to end that wasn't messy, I knew that. There wasn't any way we could get out of it without someone getting hurt. For once in my life, though, I just wanted to do something for myself, something that would make me happy no matter the cost to others. The friendship between Boss and me was strong. We could… if Harry and I got together, Boss and I could get through it. I was sure of it. We could.

"Maybe that's part of it, but I mean it too. Still, if you want to, I'm not going to go put on a chastity belt." He smiled, then got back down to where he was before I'd spoken, my cock in his face. He rubbed it against his cheek, first, eyes closed, and a soft sigh fell from his lips, then he gave it a small lick, base to tip, like it was a lollipop. I grunted. "Damn it, don't tease." He smirked, and breathed where he'd licked, giving me a chill.

"But it's so much fun!" I took advantage of his open mouth and thrust in clumsily. He choked a little and glared, but started to suck nonetheless. He closed his eyes, and put his hands on my hips in warning, obviously wanting me to stay where I was and not thrust into his mouth. He could only take in about half of me, and that shouldn't have been as hot as it was. I'd had girls who could take all of it, who let me fuck their mouths, but this was so, so much better somehow. The flat of his tongue pressed against the bottom of my dick, against a vein there, and his hands wrapped around what he couldn't get with his mouth. He pulled mostly off to tease the head, tongue wiggling around at the slit and pressing against it slightly. I groaned, and he pulled completely off, a grin on his face. "See, Nathan? Fun!" I forced myself to sit up, at least mostly, and I relished in towering over him for the rarity of it. He glanced up at me, grinned again, and dived back down.

Actually watching my cock disappear between wet, red lips added an entirely new sensation to all of it, and I had to moan again. He did the same thing in response, and the vibration was just… I grabbed his hair, and fucked in deep. I hit the back of his throat and still wasn't all the way inside. He whined and choked around me, spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth, and threatened teeth. I let go of his hair, and he pulled back some. Wet, slurping sounds came from him as he swirled his tongue around me, and then he sucked once, hard. His cheeks hollowed out around me, and I shuddered. I glanced down at his lap and saw that he was hard too, but then he shifted to play with my balls and I lost my train of thought.

His eyes were lidded, and he was shifting from fast and rough to slow and torturous periodically, making it hard for me to keep silent, like I knew I needed to. His free hand had shifted to palm himself through his boxers, and I really just wanted to grab his hair again, to do what I wanted at the speed I wanted, but this was good, so, so good, and then the wet heat was gone. I can admit that I was probably the one who produced that pathetic whimper. Harry laughed, quietly, and gave me a tiny little smile.

"Harry. Fucking finish what you started," I growled. That just made him laugh again.

"Well now, aren't you so impatient? And here I was, about to tell you that you could fuck my mouth if you wanted, now that I've gotten myself used to it. If you just want me to go back to what I was doing, though, I guess I could do that too." I let out a rumbling groan at that, and my hips shifted.

"You sure?" He nodded.

"I wouldn't have told you that you could if I wasn't. I won't choke on it now, so go ahead." I nodded and grasped his hair again, a little more gently than I had before, and allowed myself to thrust into his mouth. He was open and accommodating this time, and there was no threat of teeth. Instead, there was just his tongue, wrapping around me and pressing where he could as I moved his head and my hips back and forth. I hit the back of his throat again, and he swallowed around me, squeezing my balls lightly, carefully, as he did, and I came suddenly and without warning. He swallowed it as best he could, but some still dripped from the corner of his mouth, and he came away sputtering a little. "Ass. You could've told me." I blushed again, panting and sated and happy.

"I didn't know either. You want me to help you out?" I asked, gesturing at his own hard on tenting his boxers. He shrugged and shifted away a little, allowing his legs to sprawl out clumsily. I slid his boxers down and wrapped my hands around him. Where my dick was thick and blunt, his was thin, and graceful in a weird sort of way. It curved up towards his stomach, red with blood, and dripping pre-come. I swirled my thumb in it, how I liked, and his hips jerked up stutteringly. A choked off little moan came out of his throat, and I twisted once, twice, just under the head, harsh. He thrust into my hand and fell backwards onto his elbows, eyes closed and throat bared. I wanted to mark it, mark his chest, his stomach, his thighs, and I cupped his balls, rolled them in my hand. His chest was heaving, and I could feel his pulse through my hand. It felt too fast to even be human, and I jerked him a few more times. He, too, came suddenly and without much warning. It splattered over my hand and his stomach, and he fell backwards. He narrowly missed smacking his head against the footboard.

"Damn, Nathan," he mumbled, as I maneuvered him up and back around into the proper direction. A line of my own come was drying at the corner of his mouth, and I had to look away.

"Thanks. Is there anything in your bathroom I can clean us up with?"

"Should be a rag somewhere. Just as a forewarning, though, the water will be cold, in case you forgot." I nodded, and stood up, then stumbled into the bathroom, my legs jelly weak. I wet a rag and wandered back, absently cleaning my hand on the way before I wiped up his stomach, then got his face. He smiled thankfully, and I went and dropped the dirtied rag into his sink, then flopped heavily beside him. He'd tugged his boxers back up, and I tucked myself back into mine and zipped my pants back up. He curled into my chest, and I pulled one of his thick comforters over both of us. We went to sleep together, me hoping he really was telling the truth about the concussion not being an issue, because I was far too tired to stay awake any longer. I hold that as the reason why I didn't remember the fact that Boss kept a wire planted in my jacket, which I'd been wearing this entire time, one Gard had charmed to be magic resistant.


	7. Chapter 7

My cell phone woke me up the next morning with a bright, cheerful pinging sound. I wanted to throw it across the room, but that had to be on a list somewhere of Things Nathan Hendricks Should Not Do When He Wake Up. I shifted around to pull it out of my pocket, being careful not to wake up the Harry Dresden that was sprawled out on top of me and drooling on my chest. His hand twitched periodically, clutching at me, and I remembered what we'd done together, what we'd said. It made me smile as I answered the phone, not bothering to look at who was on the other end of the line.

"Hendricks," I grunted, my voice sleep thick and still tired. Boss' voice answered me clearly, and was filled with a cold fire that made my very blood freeze in my veins.

"Good morning, Mr. Hendricks. I do so hope you and Mr. Dresden enjoyed your passionate evening together." If my blood was frozen before, it was replaced with pure ice now. I didn't know what to say. "I am, of course, pleased that you were so open with me about the nature of your relationship with him. It is wonderfully pleasant to have someone with whom everything can be shared, is it not?"

"Boss… I don't… how did you…"

"How did I find out? You have a wire, remember? I heard all of it, beginning to end." His voice had shifted from angry to empty, and I knew he was simply hiding away the rage like he always did, burying it deep with everything else. With his feelings for Harry. Oh, god. The guilt hammered at me suddenly, like a lead weight smashing into my skull.

"I'm sorry. I didn't… I wasn't expecting that. There isn't a way to do this without pain, I know that. I'm sorry." I cleared my throat, and Boss was silent, for a few moments. I could hear him breathing, though, deep and slow. He was having trouble controlling himself. Normally I was the one that helped him fix situations that made him that way, rather than the cause of them.

"It is not proper to have this conversation over the phone. I will send a car for you. It will be there within an hour. If Harry is willing to come, please bring him as well. This situation involves him as well." I nodded, habit forcing the movement.

"Of course, Boss. I don't want… I'd like our friendship to get through this." I could hear a deep, endless sadness in his voice as he spoke next.

"I would as well, however I am unsure of how that could be done." The phone was hung up, and I dropped it with a sigh. Harry woke up, looking at me with wide, sleepy eyes that were uncomfortably childish.

"What's going on, Nathan?"

"Boss knows." He raised his eyebrows.

"And?"

"And he's upset. He loves you too, remember? This'll hurt him." Harry shrugged.

"He's a strong man, I've seen as much. This won't kill him." I looked away, stared down at my lap because I couldn't look at him, and I loved him, and I wanted to do what we'd done last night again, and I wanted to do more, and I wanted to go back in time and never do it at all because Boss was my friend, first and foremost, and it was a deep betrayal, a cut that maybe he wouldn't be able to heal from. After Spike had died… I'd been one of the only ones he had.

"Maybe. I don't know. It'll hurt him bad." Harry sighed and patted my shoulder, then placed a tiny kiss on my jaw.

"Then we can all deal with it. Emotional blows are bitches to deal with, but the beauty of it is, they don't actually kill you, so you've got plenty of time to patch them up. All the time you need. John is a strong man, physically and emotionally. He'll be okay, and it isn't your fault anyway. No one can help who they have feelings for." I grunted at the pretty words, but they didn't make my guilt magically disappear. I don't think he was expecting them to, if the way he looked at me meant anything.

"Come on, Boss is sending a car for us. We should probably get ready to go." He nodded and sat up, his blanket falling off of his shoulders to pool on his lap. The few candles that still burned cast a pretty golden light over his skin, and he seemed almost ethereal, just then. He stopped being the gawky, nerdy man who made Star Wars references and lived in a basement, and became the Wizard I knew he was, magical, graceful, and too powerful to mention. I wanted to laugh. Even through the guilt, the thought that I shouldn't have done what I had, I still wanted to keep my relationship with him. He bent down and dug out a pair of jeans from a pile in the floor, then slid them on without even unbuttoning them, before he tossed a wrinkled black t-shirt with a white pentacle on it over his head. His silver amulet hung just barely passed the hollow of his throat as always, and I supposed he never took the damned thing off. He tied his boots on, and then we went into the living room again.

Molly was already gone, leaving only a note saying that she'd left for school, and the blankets she'd been using were folded neatly on the end of the couch. Harry and I sat on the old, tattered piece of furniture quietly for a while, him leaning easily against my shoulder, until a knock came against the door, heavy and loud and easily recognizable as Gard. Harry stood cautiously, and grabbed his staff from the popcorn tin by the door before he jerked the heavy steel thing open. As expected, Gard stood on the other side, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight, business-like ponytail. She wasn't smiling, but then, she didn't smile often anyway. Harry put his staff back in the popcorn tin, but made sure it was still leaning towards him, so he could grab it quickly. The tense set was back in his shoulders, and his eyes were once more darting about the room. The calm trust he'd shown me last night had fled with the rise of the sun, it seemed.

"Mr. Dresden," Gard spoke, and inclined her head a bit in greeting. Harry returned it, and grabbed his duster from where Molly had folded it the previous night. He shrugged it onto his shoulders, the leather making a soft, almost protesting noise as it settled around him like a second skin. I'd never noticed it before, but he really did look far more natural with the thing on.

"Gard," he replied, and he followed her out of the apartment. I stood quickly and trotted after him, although it was unnecessary, because he had to stop outside his door and lock it, then raise his wards back up, and Gard stayed close by, apparently watching his technique or something. Probably so she could get back in later, if she had to, knowing her. We all walked down to a nondescript grayish car together, and Gard climbed into the front. I forsook my usual place in the passenger seat to climb into the back with Harry. The ride was mostly silent, but she spoke up when we were about a mile from the personal apartment Boss usually stayed in.

"He is very sad, you know. Sad, confused, betrayed, and, of course, angry. He would have never thought you'd do this, Mr. Hendricks, not to him. He does not blame you, though, Mr. Dresden." Harry sighed, and his fingers twined thoughtlessly around mine. Obviously he was the type of man who would want to be openly affectionate. I wondered if I could even give that to him. My fingers tightened around his without me really meaning for them to, but he flashed me a small smile anyway.

"He shouldn't be tossing blame around anyway. This isn't anyone's fault." Gard sighed, and pulled into a parking space in front of a high class apartment on the Gold Coast. Harry stared at it in awe, mouth gaping slightly, and I somehow knew that he was figuring just how many months of his current rent it would take him to afford a place like the one before him now.

"Perhaps not, and yet love is irrational. Do not do anything stupid to upset him further, either of you. I will not be entering. If you end up killing each other, then so be it." Harry rolled his eyes as he got out of the car, and I followed after him. I heard Gard mumble one last thing before I shut the car door. "The pure stupidity of mortals will never cease to astound me." I led Harry into the apartment, flashing a badge at security, and was then forced to take the stairs up to the top floor, where Boss' apartment was, because Harry was quite fucking sure that the new, expensive glass elevator that had just recently been installed would break down if he so much as breathed on it wrong, and he'd rather not die in an elevator accident, thanks anyway. I knocked on the door a few times, and Boss came at about the third knock.

His eyes were a little red rimmed, and dark circles were pressed deep underneath. His hair was mussed, the silver hiding effortlessly in the black, and he was dressed in an old pair of jeans and not much else. I could smell alcohol on him, but he still seemed to lighten a little at the sight of Harry. My heart twisted, and he gestured for us to come inside.

The scent of alcohol was stronger by the couch, where I saw an empty bottle or two, along with a wine glass, and one of the pillows he kept there as decoration was squashed, so I supposed he'd passed out there at some point the previous evening. Harry takes a seat on Boss' recliner, and crosses his mile long legs at the ankle. He folds his hands in his lap and his back is straight. He looks like he's scared to move for fear of breaking something, and I can understand that much, because there are small crystal figures in a few places, a high definition TV in front of the couch, high-end appliances in the kitchen, a laptop on the coffee table, and literally anything else someone wouldn't want their resident clumsy wizard to be near. I sat down beside Boss on the couch, and honestly we probably would've just spent the rest of the day looking anywhere but at each other if Harry hadn't been there to get annoyed at us.

"Hell's Bells, you two, are we going to talk about this or not? There's no reason to be stupid about it." Boss turned blazing eyes towards me, and his pupils were too large, filling up his eyes until there was hardly any green left. He was still a little drunk, then. I felt his fist slam into my jaw before I really even saw him reeling back to deliver the hit. It hurt like hell, hurt more than any other hit I'd taken from something mortal, and I suddenly recalled how, once upon a time, he'd been able to reduce some guy to tears with little more than what he'd just given me. My head swam a little, and I shook it for a second as I felt Dresden appear at my side. "Holy shit, Johnny," he said, and then there was a muffled sort of gasp. My vision cleared, and I saw Boss with his lips on Harry's, his hand curled tight into the wizard's hair to hold his still. Harry's eyes were wide, and stared into John's. If they hadn't already shared a Soul Gaze I'd have thought Boss had gotten caught in the same trap I did. I expected jealousy, but that wasn't what I felt. Instead it was sort of… I didn't know what to call it. Harry finally managed to squirm free, cheeks red and eyes on fire. Boss was swaying some, and yeah, definitely drunk.

"Harry, I love you." He managed to keep most of the slur out of his voice, but it was still there, and I could see how much he had to concentrate to force the words out. Harry's lips pressed together tightly, thinly.

"So I've heard. Look, Johnny, you shouldn't be drunk for this conversation." Boss' eyes go narrow, and he takes Harry by the shoulder, his fingers digging in deeply, but Harry didn't flinch. Maybe he couldn't feel it through the duster. I sat up, and my head throbbed once, twice, before I slid my arm around Harry's waist and tugged him gently. Boss wouldn't let him move.

"I'm not drunk." Harry laughed.

"Yeah? Well then I'm not a wizard." Boss actually had to think for a minute before he got that, but when he did, he growled, and pulled Harry hard in a way that, had my own hand not been on his waist, he would've gone flying into Boss' chest. As it was he probably had some interesting bruises in the shape of both of our fingers now. "Stop it. I'm with Nathan, John." Boss clenched his teeth and glared at me. I'd never seen him look at me that way before, with such blatant anger that was so close to hatred it worried me. I could feel the bonds we'd built together shifting and straining.

"I don't care. I don't… Nathan, you knew, and you slept with him anyway. It's… I hurt." There's a reason Boss doesn't get drunk. He can't hold his liquor for shit. I suddenly thought of the picture we made; me in the floor, Boss on the couch, both of us holding onto Harry desperately.

"I shouldn't have, at least not without telling you. I know that, Boss. I'm sorry." Boss grunted at me, and stared at Harry hard, almost pathetic.

"I know you are. You wouldn't do this out of spite, I know that. You really do love him too. It still hurts." His hand clenched around Harry's shoulder, and his teeth gritted together. Harry was looking at him curiously.

"Hey, Natey, you mind if I try something?" I blinked.

"Try what?" He half-turned towards me and flashed a grin, then bent down to kiss me once, sweet and chaste. Boss choked and coughed but didn't look away, and then Dresden leaned forward and did the same thing to Boss. It was sort of funny, seeing how he looked when he kissed someone. He got so focused, honestly, intent with purpose, and his eyes closed, allowing a rather attractive vision of his dark eyelashes gently brushing his face to be produced. Boss seemed completely shell-shocked when the wizard pulled away.

"Huh." And then he put one hand behind my head and one hand behind Boss' and pushed us both forward until we were forced into a kiss. His lips were too hot and chapped, and he tasted like stale wine, plus the fact that he was just as surprised as me, but it wasn't… bad. "There. Is that better, guys? I wouldn't normally deal with something like this in this way, but fuck. You two are… you're both stupid. If we do enough stupid shit, it should counteract the natural stupid you two are producing." Well, wasn't wizard logic just fucking wonderful?

"Harry, what the fuck?" was all I managed to say, and he let out a huffy little laugh, and wiggled free from both of our grips, slinging his legs over the back of the couch and then walking back around so he could stand in front of the both of us. I tasted a little blood in my mouth.

"You know, when I first met the two of you, I thought you were together." Boss and I spared a glance to each other, the looked back at him. He sighed deeply, throatily. "I don't know of many other ways to put that. I thought you were making the beast with two backs. Having wild, affectionate monkey sex with each other. Screwing. I could try to say it in Latin, if you like, but I can't promise it won't come out funny." Boss sounded like he was going to choke to death. "I don't know the Heimlich, you know. Do you, Nathan?" I shook my head mindlessly as Boss settled some. It seemed like my new boyfriend's copious amounts of batshit insanity were sobering him up.

"What are you saying?" Boss finally managed.

"Once again, I don't have any other ways to explain that. Stones, and here I thought two grown men would know that they were sexually attracted to one another. You two have known each other for years, that much is obvious. You care about each other, which is also obvious. You're both attracted to men, which is really, really obvious, because hey, I'm here right now and you both apparently love me. It only makes sense that you'd both also have some feelings for each other. I don't mind it, by the way." The room was silent, for a minute.

"Harry fucking Dresden, are you suggesting that we have a threesome to solve this problem?" He shrugged.

"I was thinking more polyamorous relationship, actually." My throat went a little dry, and I glanced over at Boss. He seemed to be in a similar state. He wasn't… well, I knew my Boss wasn't ugly. I'd always been able to recognize that much. He had regal features, and a deep, natural tan that wasn't exactly common in Chicago, the weather being what it usually was. Harry was right, I did care about him. I'd defend him with my life. But this was still insane.

"Dresden. This is… weird, to say the least."

"Wizard, Natey. I'm a wizard. Once again, I will live for at least half a millennium, unless one of my various enemies happens to get in a lucky shot at me. If you look it up, you'll find out pretty quickly that unique arrangements like that were pretty common for wizards, at least for wizards between my age and about a hundred or so." Come to think of it, I did remember reading something about that, but I'd just thought it was someone's fantasy. There were almost certainly people out there that would get off on having a kinky wizard around. "And really, have you not seen most of the powerful spells out there? Nearly all of them revolve around sex." That was definitely true. Still, I didn't love Boss; I knew I didn't, not like I loved Harry.

"I don't love Nathan, Harry," Boss said, taking the words from my mouth, "I love you." Harry rolled his eyes.

"I never said you two were madly, goo-goo eyes in love with each other. I said you were attracted to one another. I also implied that I had feelings for the both of you, which is really weird for me, but still." This was weird. This was really, really strange. I didn't think I'd ever been in a situation like this. I wondered how many people would kill to be in my position, and guessed probably a whole fucking lot. I just wanted something easy, though, and figured that actually, I had decided to date Harry Dresden. I should've known I wouldn't get easy. Easy and Harry Dresden don't belong in the same reality, much less the same sentence. He stepped around the coffee table and helped me back onto the couch, then kneeled on the floor between the two of us. Boss' hand seemed to rise almost subconsciously to settle on top of his head. He leaned into the touch just as subconsciously. "So?"

"I am… willing to try," Boss said. Of course he was. Harry took me by the front of the shirt and tugged me down to kiss me hard, allowing my tongue to play at the seam of his lips and slip inside. He drew me into a sort of teasing game, a push pull he wasn't really even trying to win, and then pulled away.

"Well?" he asked me, and what could I really do but nod? Harry grinned; face bright, and once again he took on that open look, all warm eyes and contentment. He stood up and hauled himself onto the couch between Boss and me. "We've still got to talk though. Are there any boundaries you two want to set?" Was I supposed to have any? How did he even know? Christ. Boss looked just as lost, although that might have been the alcohol. Harry sighed. "We'll do it when you're sober, John. Hell's Bells, why'd you get so drunk anyway? I didn't even think you could."

"I don't know, Harry. Perhaps it was because I felt the one man I love getting ripped away from me." Harry rolled his shoulders and propped up against me, swinging his feet around to plop onto Boss' lap. Apparently dating him meant he could take whatever liberties he damn well felt like taking, but I wouldn't complain, I supposed. We had to make a pretty odd picture, though, and Dresden was insisting on holding my hand. He smirked.

"I wasn't ever yours to get ripped away from, Johnny boy. I'm still not. Just like I'm not Nate's to get taken from either. That's kind of going to be my one condition, if you couldn't tell. If either of you ever try to make me belong to you, I'll grab my shit and go, love or not." Boss nodded, but it seemed to make him feel sick, so he allowed his head to list backwards and his hand to settle on Harry's partially exposed ankle. I suddenly imagined the fuss he'd kick up, if he was a Victorian woman, and snickered quietly. He peeked up at me with raised eyebrows, and I shook my head and waved him off. This was how we were still sitting when a loud, almost harried knock came from the front door.

I pushed Harry's back some to get him to sit up so I could stand, and as soon as I was up he flopped down to lie on the couch. I really felt the love. I glanced through the peephole in the door, one hand on the handle and another under my jacket, in case of trouble, but the man on the other side was one I recognized, if not knew. His eyes were cold and hard, and dirty, sweaty black hair threaded with iron limply framed his face. There was a bleeding cut on his cheek, just under his eye. Morgan. I opened the door carefully, half-expecting him to storm inside, but he did no such thing, instead waiting politely at the door.

"Where is Warden Dresden?" he asked, his voice dry and crackling, and one of his arms hung, limp and obviously broken, at his side. His gray cloak was covered in blood, and the scabbard at his side was free of the sword he'd had the first time I saw him. How the hell had he even gotten up here, looking like that?

"Why do you want him?" The man coughed, then snarled, eyes flashing.

"Something has happened. He will… want to know. He needs to know." Wizard business then, of some sort, that much was obvious, and hell, they'd made up recently, and even if they hadn't, he wouldn't be much danger like this. I stepped aside and allowed him to enter. Harry jumped up at the sight of him.

"Morgan! What the hell… Stars and Stones, I've seen you come off a battle with the Red King less torn up than this. What happened?" The man gave a tiny, stony smile, and stumbled forwards towards Harry. The tall, thin man had to catch him when he nearly tumbled to the ground. He was bleeding on the carpet, and Boss looked nervous, upset.

"DuMorne… it was DuMorne. He's not dead." And then he passed out. Harry looked like he wanted to.

* * *

A few seconds passed, and then Harry slowly sunk to the ground. His eyes were wide and glazed, and his hands, wrapped around Morgan's biceps, were clenching and unclenching, jerking spasmodically. Boss got real sober real quick as he got up from the couch, and we both rushed over to him. He allowed the fussing without reacting, and honestly, that was more worrying than if he'd done one of his usual freak outs about being able to take care of himself.

"Can one of you put Morgan on the couch and call someone to take a look at him?" he asked suddenly, his voice dry and empty. I lifted the large man up and lay him on the couch, being careful not to jar the broken arm too much, and Boss put in a call to some in-the-know physician he'd gotten onto his payroll.

"He'll be here within a half hour," he said, and then he helped me get Harry to his feet and settle him into the chair he'd been in before. He stared blankly ahead. The sight of him that way, without his usual light and life and power was… it was scary. I'd never thought he could look this way, but the mere mention of DuMorne being alive had brought him to this state. I could maybe see why, too, if he'd managed to make that Morgan guy into a punching bag even though the fucker could bend the very earth to his will with ease. I didn't know what to say, though. I didn't know what I could tell him to make the nightmares flashing behind his eyes go away. "Harry?" Boss said, pressing two fingers under the man's chin to force him to look up. A bit of the darkness in his face fled.

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"You fearing that man will not make him go away. It will only grant him more power over you." Harry Dresden afraid. Wasn't that a novel thought? I didn't want to imagine a man who could instill such a base reaction in the powerful man after so many slimy demons and horror story monsters had failed to. I went to stand beside him too, and took his fingers. I noticed suddenly that despite the fact that his hand was longer than mine, it was thin and frail; the bones feeling almost like a bird's.

"He can't be alive. He can't. I killed the bastard, for what he did to me. I killed him. They… they found bones in the house. I know they did. He's dead. He has to be dead. Dead, dead, dead. I'm not scared of a dead man." His voice was high, and his eyes were darting back and forth like an animal's.

"I know. You fear a living one. He doesn't deserve your fear, though." Boss' eyes narrowed, "It is a pathetic man who can bend only children to his will. He is not half the man you are, and you will stand up, and you will face the fucker, and you will kill him for real, for good." Harry choked, and a single tear crept down his face. He smiled, watery and thin.

"Scumbag," he said with a quiet laugh, "Hell's Bells, you criminal scumbag, thank you." Boss pressed a kiss to his forehead, just because he could, and it was so sweet I felt almost like an intruder until Harry squeezed my hand and turned his gaze to me. He puckered his lips and smacked them jokingly, and I laughed, shaking my head a little, before I leaned down and pecked them. He followed me up, and then pulled me into a deeper kiss, tongue teasing my lips and then pulling away. Because he can be a dick when he wants to be. He tugged Boss into a similar kiss seconds after, and Boss appeared to have the same thought I did on just how much of a dick the wizard could be when he pulled away. There was a groan from the couch, and the happy haze that had inadvertently been created went away. Morgan forced himself back up into a sitting position, hissing when some of his weight landed on the broken arm at his side.

"Harry," he grunted, and the younger wizard stood and moved over to crouch in front of the older man. "You need to leave here. If I was able to find you here, he certainly will, and you are the one he is looking for. He had a girl, your foster sister I believe, with him already." Harry swallowed.

"What's he… how is he still alive?"

"Escaped the fire. Had some sort of tunnel system under the house, I think. I found remains of it during my search, shortly after I found you, but I thought nothing of it at the time. I'm sorry I could not… he has grown in power, Harry, and he was always one of the strongest Wardens. He was even up for a Senior Council position. He's dangerous, and he's looking for you. Your cat and I managed to stop him from getting into your apartment." That brought another tiny smile to Harry's face.

"That's my Mister. And that's my Warden too, I guess. Still, I'm not going to run from him again, especially not if he's already managed to get Elaine back under Thrall. I'm going to fight him, Morgan." The man made a pained expression, and I couldn't help but make a similar one. Harry fought with wild abandon, pulling out all the stops and hitting enemies where it hurt, but all in all, I knew he was nowhere near the most powerful wizard out there, and that age was often a defining factor in the strength of wizards. I didn't want anything to happen to him. "I need to get to my apartment so I can collect my staff and blasting rod." Boss nodded once, stiff.

"Nathan and I will escort you, and, of course, fight at your side. Mr. Morgan, you may stay here if you wish. I've called a doctor who understands the unique attributes of wizards such as yourself. She will arrive shortly to treat your wounds." He nodded, and dropped back down.

"Thank you. Harry, if I had not learned of your innocence before this, what has happened would have proved it to me. I am truly, truly sorry. I am certain that the Merlin will soon share that sentiment." Harry smiled, calm, but his eyes were still a little distant.

"I've already accepted your apology, Morgan. Go back to sleep." The man obeyed quickly.

"You don't believe him about the Merlin," I said, as though I had any fucking idea who the Merlin was.

"The Merlin believes what he wants to believe. If he wants to think that I'm in the wrong, he will, and he won't change his mind just because DuMorne is actually alive. He'll find some way to spin it so I'm still the bad guy. Come on." He was in battle mode, ready for anything, and we all quickly left the apartment and piled into a car. The guard at the front of the building was knocked out, and I winced. I supposed that was how Morgan had gotten in. He had to be a special kind of badass, though, to have knocked someone out when he could barely stand up. We flew down the highway to Harry's apartment, and he rushed inside quickly. He pulled his cat inside with him, worried to a fault, and came back seconds later with his staff in hand. His blasting rod, I assumed, had been tucked into his duster sleeve where he apparently always kept it. He climbed back into the car again, but it didn't last for long, because a sudden burst of unnatural green lightning crashed just in front of the car. Harry cursed and clambered back out, staff bared in front of him threateningly, and there was suddenly a woman in front of him.

She was a coltish thing, with golden brown hair and wide, currently empty eyes. Her mouth was full, and hung slightly open, and the chain held between her two hands was smoking slightly. Her jeans hung loosely, and the t-shirt covering her chest was obviously old, and maybe a little ratty. A man stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. He was a slight man, with pale, wispy golden hair streaked in silver that he wore swept back in a ponytail. He was all bones, and not terribly tall at a mere five foot nine, but there was something frozen in his muddy brown eyes, something that made even me want to cower in fear of him. He was smiling, though, a caring, calm smile directed at Harry, and the gray-green robe he wore was almost the epitome of nonthreatening.

"I've gotten his attention, Uncle Justin. What would you have me do now?" The girl's voice was empty and hollow, like her eyes. DuMorne kept his hand on her shoulder, and Harry was shaking harshly, his hand gripped so tight around his staff that his knuckles were white. He was using his free hand to pull his duster closed and button it up. I'd never seen the thing closed, and without the billowing effect it had when opened, it just made him look small and cold. I climbed quickly out of the car, Boss just on my tail, and freed my gun from the shoulder rig under my jacket. Boss did the same, although he retrieved his from a little compartment thing in the floor of the car, and it was a semi-automatic, far larger than mine. The street was suspiciously empty as we each took a place beside Harry.

"Nothing, little darling, not yet. I do not wish to use force against our lost sheep, and I certainly do not want you to expend too much energy on his… mortals. My dearest apprentice, it has been so long, don't you think? So very, very long." The man's voice held a faint European accent, but I couldn't place exactly what it was. Harry let go of his held breath and stiffened up, back straight, eyes defiant.

"Not long enough. Funnily enough, I was sort of hoping to never see your fucking face again." A little smirk twitched DuMorne's thin lips.

"Language, dear boy. I'll not have my best child speak in such a manner, not to me." Harry's eyes flashed with rage, with fire, and the girl, Elaine I assumed, simply stood there with those dead eyes, the chain gripped in her hands.

"I don't give a damn how you want me to talk, asshole. I'm going to kill you, and this time, it's going to stick." He laughed, and that laugh showed the evil lurking just under his skin.

"You couldn't if you wanted to, my boy. I've practiced endlessly, you know, to improve my binding skills. Country after country, city after city, I've been all over the world finding people with your level of will and breaking them, all to get to you. My favorite boy, the one who got away from me. I'll bring you back, little one; I'll bring you back, break you, and make you ask for more." My trigger finger tensed. Boss' upper lip was raised in a sneer. Harry just swallowed, took a deep breath, and held the man's muddy gaze. I wondered just what was in his soul and kept my own eyes firmly on the bridge of his nose. I didn't want to see what horrors he was hiding.

"I'm a big boy now, DuMorne. I don't need a master anymore." The man smiled that sick, gentle smile again and walked forward, until he was chest-to-stomach with Harry. Harry just stood there, hand poised on his staff.

"Shoddy work, your staff. I'd have not let you get away with it, but then, Ebenezer always was a bit slack. His own staff is little more than a tree branch, if I recall. Do you remember your shields?"

"You want a display, fucker?"

"Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, I believe I asked you not to speak to me like that. You will call me master." Harry bared his teeth like a caged dog and swallowed convulsively. A few quiet seconds passed, but then he spoke again.

"M-Master… Master DuMorne, I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise. I'll do whatever you want." I felt sick. His eyes had gone wide, empty and dead like Elaine's, but I saw his hands shaking and jerking desperately. Whatever it was the man had done, he was fighting tooth and nail against it. Pride throbbed in my chest, even as I saw Boss lunge forward, obviously intent on smashing DuMorne's skull open. He hit an invisible wall I'd honestly sort of expected, and DuMorne took Dresden's hand into his own and dragged him away from us. This time it was me that tried to chase him down, but Boss held me back with a stiff shake of his head.

"Are you truly sorry, my boy? You've lied to me before, said you'd do as I asked and then turned around and done the opposite." The shaking of his hands spread up his arms, his muscles tensing and loosening rapidly, his teeth gnashing together.

"Yes," he hissed, "Master, please. I'm so, so sorry. What… whatever you… w-want." DuMorne smirked and gestured, and the shaking stopped for a second, worrying me deeply, but then it started up again, more severe than before.

"Kneel," DuMorne snarled, and Harry did so, stutteringly, with a few false starts. The toe of a pair of black boots peeked out from the hem of the gray-green robe, and I cursed as I recalled something Harry had told me before. Boss was looking on with narrow eyes, and I could feel the anger building in him, swirling around hotly just behind the frozen wall of green. I could almost see tick after tick appear beside DuMorne's name on the tally board that had to be my Boss' mind. By this point, there had to be enough to get a man Boss liked a hell of a lot more than DuMorne killed. I'd have pitied him, if I didn't feel the same damn way. "Lick. Show your mortals just what a worthless mutt you are." Harry's fingers curled into claws as he moved forward, and a painful sounding scream tore from his throat angrily. I wanted to do something, to help, but I could think of no way to help. My mind had gone completely blank.

Harry paused with his mouth hardly a centimeter from DuMorne's boot, and his eyes closed for a second. DuMorne's went wide, and he went through a series of rapid fire motions, but nothing happened. Harry's eyes opened again, and he flashed a defiant smirk and he climbed back to his feet, swaying dangerously. He stared into DuMorne's eyes for a second, DuMorne mumbling under his breath to no avail.

"No," he said suddenly, chin lifted, dark eyes flashing. A laugh wiggled from my mouth, quiet and hardly there, and yeah, no way in hell could a man like that control Harry. DuMorne sneered and clenched a fist in the front of Harry's duster. Harry stared down at him coolly, perfectly blank, uncaring. I huffed out another barely audible laugh, and Boss spared a wan smile, though worry was still bright on his face.

"Slut of a boy," he growled out, "Do you not understand what I could do to you? What I have done to you? You are mine. There is no one else who'd even want you, now. Damaged goods. Just come with me quietly, dear one, and I'll care for you just as you'll care for me." He was trying to calm his face, to even his voice, but there was still a certain madness lurking there. It was hardly noticeable, but I saw Harry's miniscule twitch at the words, the spark of pain in his eyes, before he schooled his features back to blank. I had to hold Boss back this time. He was quiet for a couple of seconds, probably strengthening his nerve again, hardening his walls back to perfection.

"Fuck. Off," he finally managed, enunciating clearly, and DuMorne showed another piece of that monster inside him with a low growl. He wound his arm back and slapped Harry hard suddenly with the back of his hand. Harry's head turned with the force, but he only laughed. "I'm not a little boy anymore, bastard. You can't control me that easily. Now get out of my face. Forzare," he hissed, and a reddish wall of force sent him flying backwards. He'd have crashed into a building if not for a half-dome of silver-blue light that appeared behind him and allowed him to fall harmlessly to the ground. He dusted himself off and stood, Elaine rushing to his side.

"Uncle Justin! Are you all right?"

"Fine, darling, I'm fine. Our dear boy is simply attempting to rebel against his fate. He has not changed at all." I shot suddenly, finally unable to hold back how completely fucking pissed off I was, and the bullet should've entered his chest, but he waved a hand and it turned in the air to harmlessly strike the side of the building he'd narrowly avoided slamming into. "And it seems his mortals wish to defend his honor. I never understood your fascination with the lowly beasts, my boy, when all they've got to defend themselves with are those damnable guns."

"I told you to fuck off, DuMorne. You touch them, and your death is going to be a hell of a lot harsher." The blonde smiled and cocked his head, and fuck, Harry was really interested in keeping us safe, wasn't he? He was defending us like I'd seen him defend friends; but actually, I could feel even more heat behind the words. He really did care about us, rabidly so, obviously. That made a warm little light pop up in my chest, and I allowed a tiny smile to flicker over my face.

"You'd not go easy on me anyway, my lovely little apprentice. I didn't make you that way. You perceive me to have wronged you. I did not teach you to show mercy to those who wronged you."

"There's no 'perceive' about it. You fucked me up, and I fucking hate you. Hell's Bells, I hate you. Let Elaine go, so I can show you just how fucking much."

"No. Darling, bind him. He'll perhaps be more amenable to discussion after a bit without something to eat." Harry laughed, and pulled his blasting rod free.

"No thanks. Fuego!" A thick, wrist-wide plume of fire with silver-white streamers braided through it burst forth from the tip of the thing. It flowed, deadly and beautiful, after the man, who brought up another shield. Seconds later, though, he was hissing and snarling. His hands were turning red, and Harry laughed as the fire died down. Both his hands had been burned badly, but they were both, obviously, still functional. "You're behind the times, DuMorne! I changed that shitty design forever ago, so it'd protect against things like heat."

"Elaine, bind him immediately!" he yelled, dirt colored eyes wide and blazing, his teeth snapping like an animal's. The girl nodded, and started walking forward, chanting lowly all the while. Harry cursed, and bent down to scrawl a rough circle around all of us with a misshapen lump of chalk. I could literally feel the barrier snap into place, but whatever spell it was she was using went right through with a burst of green blue light, and DuMorne crowed out a laugh as wire thin strands of light bound Harry tightly and he started to tumble to the ground. I caught him easily, but he couldn't seem to move his limbs. His head was hanging over the chalk line, and I shifted him as best I could to bring him fully back into the barrier. The flesh of DuMorne's hands was repairing itself as he mumbled nonsense words and marched forward towards the barrier. "How sweet. Dear boy, don't tell me you are consorting with those mortals." He reached through the barrier like it was nothing and petted Harry's face. Harry tried to bite him. "Feral," he mumbled, "And yet you've lost none of your beauty from that first time. Pure as the lily you've never been. Don't you remember what I told you, love? You'll be mine long after your flesh is rotting in the ground. You are weak, compared to me. Even the mighty Donald Morgan, famed Evocator, couldn't stand against me." He pulled the man's limp body from me, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I wanted to kill him, suddenly, smash my fist into his face and watch it come back bloody. I wanted to feel the primal joy of his bones snapping, because I was bigger, I was stronger, at least physically. Boss' teeth were gnashing, and suddenly his gun was trained on DuMorne's skull.

"My cat kicked your ass," Harry managed to choke out, and DuMorne forced him to the ground, tearing his coat off on the way and throwing his staff and blasting rod somewhere out of reach. Harry gritted his teeth, but still his eyes were flashing with hate and defiance. Still, underneath it all, I could see the child in him cowering. DuMorne could too, and it made him flash a shark's smile. Boss opened fire, but it did the same amount of good my earlier shot had. The only damage came from when one ricocheted off of something and struck the girl's arm. She didn't even flinch, though the blood drifted down in a heavy sheet. Harry's shirt came next, and then DuMorne flipped him onto his belly. I knew the concrete had to be scraping his chest raw. DuMorne pressed his hand in between Harry's shoulder blades.

"Do your mortals know all I've done to you? Do they know how damaged you truly are? A broken little toy soldier that keeps marching on even though its legs are broken off. Why do you keep fighting me?" Harry laughed, even though it came out muffled.

"Because you're a monster. I know that by this point my entire being is flayed to the raw nerve. I know I'm not good for a lot of things. I get all that, but I swore a long time ago that I'd help rid this world of all the monsters in it. You're just one of the more stubborn ones I've met. Like a cockroach." I felt sick when DuMorne laughed again, but Boss just looked pissed.

"Let's show them what this cockroach did to you, my favorite boy. Let's show them what you've tried so hard to hide." A whispered word I couldn't repeat if my life depended on it slid from his mouth, and suddenly Harry's back was a roadmap of messy, puckered scar tissue, and right in the center of it, two words blazed fire red: Justin DuMorne. "Did you never wonder why they didn't disappear with my 'death'?" he hissed. Harry was crying, and then he was screaming.

"Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you! I'll kill you, and then you'll regret having touched me to begin with! You'll fucking burn, damn you! Nathan, John, get your asses into my apartment, now!" I was unwilling to go, of course, and John was too, but I had a sudden thought. Oh, that devious motherfucker. I could almost hear him doing that shitty Wile E. Coyote suuuuuuuuuuuupergenius thing again as I dragged my protesting Boss inside.

"See how quickly they leave you?" I heard DuMorne yell as I slammed the steel door shut. Mouse was whining loudly, and there was no sign of Mister, which was expected, seeing as how he'd apparently been playing guard cat.

"Nathan, what the hell? He needs us." I nodded.

"Yeah, I know. He's got something in here that'll help us, though. He just made it, come on." I went over to the Navajo rug in the corner and kicked it up, then raised the trapdoor and followed Boss down. I then remembered I had no idea where the potion was supposed to be, and that he had wards on it that were set to explode. Kablooey, I remembered. Shit. I was about to start digging through and drinking whatever random shit I happened to find, stupid as that really was in hindsight, when a voice without a source appeared.

"Well, that was quick. Hath shit already hitteth the fan?" Boss' head whipped around and finally settled on a bleached white skull with shiny orange lights in its eye. Oh, hell. The skull grinned. "Yes, I'm a talking skull! Stare in wonder and awe at the power of magic. Ooh! Ah!" It was almost funny how much like Harry the damned thing sounded, honestly. I might have laughed had I not been so worried.

"I need the potion Harry made. Justin DuMorne is out there trying to… I don't know what." Somehow the soft orange lights managed to harden.

"I knew it, damn it. I knew it as soon as the scars didn't fade, but Harry wouldn't listen. He never does. Oh, yeah, I can sense him out there. He's throwing all kinds of dark mojo around. Street is empty, right? He's gotten more powerful, if he can toss around enough suggestion to keep this whole area empty. And he's got the girl, fuck." The skull opened its mouth wide and revealed a glass vial. "Take it. Each of you drink half."

"You're just giving it to us?" I asked as Boss snatched the vial, uncorked it, and gulped his half. The skull seemed to smile.

"Yup. You've got Harry's aura all tangled up in yours. The other guy does too, if not as severely, and you've both been touched by love. Never would've thought Harry would have it in him. Hey, though, all three of you have White Court immunity now." Boss handed me the vial and I downed what was left in it. It tasted disgusting; the muted iron of blood tangling with something powdery that clung to the insides of my throat. I can admit that I wretched a little, even as I felt sudden strength thrumming through my veins. "Cool! It actually worked! Now, get your asses up and go save that moron! You're both all Hulked out, so go wild." Boss whipped around and stomped back up the rickety wooden stairs. I heard the crash of the steel door being opened too hard and raced after him. When we got outside, positions had shifted. Elaine was holding Harry's arms behind his back, her chain holding his wrists together, and half of DuMorne's face had become bloody and bruised. His nose looked broken. Apparently Harry had managed to break that binding and start fighting back, which was unsurprising. He seemed tired now, though, and what I could see of his skin was damp with sweat. Elaine stared blankly at the back of his head, concentrating completely on keeping the chain taut against his struggling despite her gunshot wound. DuMorne walked slowly around him, and I noticed he had a slight limp. Good.

"Hey, dickhead!" I yelled, and the new power I felt thrummed happily within me, making my muscles tense with the thrill of a chance at being used. Too bad I didn't get that magic Harry said was a possibility, I couldn't help but think, then I could cause some real damage to the fucker who was daring to make Harry scared, when he shouldn't ever, ever be afraid. DuMorne's gaze flicked over to me.

"I believe I see where you got your new vocabulary, dear boy." He leaned down and shoved his tongue into Harry's mouth. I snarled, and Boss tensed up. At a glance to his eyes, all I could manage to see was 'killkillkill'. I felt the same way, and crouched into an old fighting stance I hadn't had to use in years. My pistol was forgotten back in the holster. It wouldn't do me any good here anyway. DuMorne jerked from Harry with a yelp, and when Harry grinned, I saw blood on his teeth. I laughed, low and gravely, in a way I hadn't even know I could laugh, and ran forward, faster than I ever thought I could, and grabbed him by the front of his robe. He let some surprise show as I swung and punched him hard. I felt his jaw crack and smiled at the visceral joy. He raised a hand, but it seemed slow, so, so, slow, and I dived out of the way of some fire spell. He seemed surprised. I smirked, and Boss rushed forward, a blur in the afternoon sun. He landed a kick to the man's stomach that made even me wince, one that made him double over and vomit on the ground. Boss sneered.

"Pig," he hissed, and grabbed the man's skull, bringing it down with a crack onto his knee. He fell limp. Harry twisted his arms into some awkward, painful looking angle over his head that forced the soulless girl to drop the chain, and then whipped around and pressed his fingers to her forehead.

"Dormio, dorme," he mumbled, and she collapsed to the ground in a dead sleep. I stepped towards him and took his hand. He winced and I dropped it.

"What?" I asked softly, remembering his cut, "Did he hurt your hand?" Harry shook his head.

"No, but that potion has increased your physical strength enough that what you think is a light touch is the equivalent of you squeezing as hard as you could at your regular level. Don't worry; it shouldn't last very long, but still. I hadn't thought it'd get used so quickly. It'll be a pain in the ass to remake it."

"Can I kill him?" Boss asked from his place over DuMorne's limp, bloody body, "Or would you like the honor?" Harry shook his head again and ran one hand through his hair.

"I'll let the White Council deal with him. I think it'll be pretty pleasurable, for Morgan's sword to go through his neck. Payback for all the years his 'death' made me live with that fear. I've got a unicorn hair rope in my apartment. I'll grab that and restrain him. You two keep an eye on him. If he tries anything, just kick him in the skull. If he happens to die before I can get some other wardens here, well, it won't be a huge loss," he said, voice hard and eyes cold. I'd never seen him so dispassionate. I didn't like it. I wanted to kill the fucker myself, honestly, wanted to see his blood splattered red on my hands because he'd hurt Harry, and people couldn't just do that and expect to get away with it. I glared down at him, and watched as Boss rhythmically kicked his stomach, over and over. I joined in in counterpoint after a couple of minutes of it, and Harry came back out with a long, silvery rope in his hands. He saw what we were doing and laughed softly; shaking his head, then tied him tightly and slung his discarded shirt and duster over his arm. "I called Captain Luccio when I got inside. She's on her way, along with my partner, Carlos, and a few trainees who've never seen an arrest." Boss and I nodded, stopped our kicking, and suddenly he had wrapped his arms around us. He pressed his forehead into our shoulders, and we both looked away so all three of us could pretend he wasn't sobbing.


	8. Chapter 8

Captain Luccio was a slight woman with short, curling brown hair, bright eyes, and dimples. She almost looked like she could have been on the cheerleading squad with Karrin Murphy. I assumed that meant she could kick my ass from here to Sunday without even looking at me, as that seemed to be a theme with cute women in Dresden's life. Warden Carlos Ramirez was decidedly less cute. In fact, he was actually sort of annoying. He had traditionally handsome, Spanish features and wide, soulful dark eyes and said 'man' way too often. He didn't look like he could be much older than eighteen, yet apparently he was a Regional Commander like Harry, whatever the fuck that actually entailed. He mentioned asses far too often in the span of a half hour, and Harry gave him knowing, smirking looks that made him glare. Still, he was obviously pretty tough, and he and Harry had worked together before, so I guessed I didn't really dislike him.

Luccio undid the unicorn hair rope and replaced it with a shiny set of silver manacles, and Harry flinched when he saw them. I wondered why, but didn't want to ask with so many people in the room for fear of making the dark haired man uncomfortable. Besides, he was plopped on Boss' lap, and Boss looked ridiculously awkward, which was honestly hilarious, so I didn't really want to disturb that. It's really hard to make Boss uncomfortable and I sort of relish in it when it happens, because he's dragged me into more than one uncomfortable situation. It also seemed to sort of freak Ramirez out, especially when I sat beside them too, and Dresden's head shifted to plop onto my shoulder. Luccio seemed decidedly unaffected, however, and actually gave Harry a glance upon leaving that suggested she was proud of him. I looked at him curiously at that, at least after all the wardens were gone, taking the prone form of DuMorne with them. They brought Elaine, too, but Harry made Luccio swear that all that would be done to her was a removal of the Thrall and a repair of the bullet hole.

"Isn't that Luccio woman younger than you? Why the hell was she giving you that 'oh to be young again' look?" Harry laughed.

"Captain Luccio is at least four or five centuries old, I think. Hell, she lived in Italy during the renaissance, did some modeling and whatnot. She got forced into a younger body during that whole thing with the necromancers. Either way, we've talked before. She did some… interesting things, in her actual youth. Hey, John, you and she would probably have something in common." Boss laughed quietly and pressed his face into the curve of Harry's neck.

"Simply because we are both Italian does not mean we would be best friends. There are countless Italians living in Chicago, you know."

"Not ones who are hundreds of years old. She's an amazing woman. She got weakened, some, after she lost her original body, but she's still one of the strongest Wardens out there. Her fire spells are way cooler than mine, actually. I've been trying to get her to teach me." It was hard to think of Dresden as a baby, but in the wizarding world, it seemed that's what he was. Apparently he was, at this point, the equivalent of a child watching their older sibling do calculus and staring in awe. I wondered what sort of force he'd be, when he was considered old by wizard standards. It almost frightened me to think of it.

"You seem like you're doing pretty well, considering what just happened," I mumbled, being careful not to grab at him, since I could still feel the excessive strength twanging within me. He gave a tiny, sad smile.

"I'm not going to sit around fearing him anymore. I can't. Hell, I didn't even know I still did, before today. He's nothing. I've beaten him twice now. I've needed help both times, but I've beaten him twice. He's nothing. Just a memory." He reached behind himself and touched the burning red scar of the bastard's name. "This will be too, soon. As soon as that sword goes through his neck, they'll really be gone."

"Why'd you lie about them, the other night?"

"If you had scars like these, would you want someone gawking at them?" He shuddered suddenly, and I glanced behind him. Boss was running his tongue up the wizard's knobby spine, kissing each vertebra in turn. "Ass," he mumbled. Boss huffed a laugh, and I had to shift a little. Apparently the pants I was in were actually a size too small and I was only just noticing.

"They're a part of you, Harry. I hate that you received them, I hate the pain they brought you, but they're fine. I, of course, look forward to the moment they no longer torment you, but even if they remained forever, they'd not make you any less wonderful." Harry's spine arched into Boss' gentle ministrations, and his eyes closed with a quiet sigh. I wanted to be able to do it too, to touch, but I couldn't, because I could never hurt him.

"Yeah, I'm sure you just love seeing someone else's name carved into my back, control freak," Harry murmured. Boss paused.

"No. I've been seething over it ever since my first sight over it. It makes me almost physically ill. I would like nothing more than to peel that bastard's skin from his bones for what he's done to you. A pathetic man such as him should not even be allowed in a room with you, much less be allowed to touch you, harm you in anyway. As you said, he is nothing. Dust. And these marks will soon be gone as well, but I'd like you to know that no matter what has happened to you, no matter your scars, I love you. I have scars as well, you understand." The steady kissing returned, and Harry slumped forward. I can't help but think he'd have fallen right off Boss' lap, if not for the hand rubbing circles into his belly. That did bring a tiny little spark of jealousy, but not of Boss himself, of the skills he apparently had at soothing the wizard. It had been he who made Harry want to face DuMorne, he who was turning the gangly man into a limp puddle of wizardly goo. All the strength I had flooded suddenly out of me, and Harry shuddered again.

"Stars and Stones, that stuff worked well. I'll have to make a bigger batch, next time, so it'll last longer."

"Huh?" I said intelligently.

"Felt the magic leave you two. Still hanging in the air, actually. I can feel it even through the magic that's always in here, because of me." I wondered what that sort of sensitivity felt like, the ability to feel magic. The most I ever got from it was a tiny tingle, awe at the sheer force of it, at how the human body could control things that were so base, so primal. I slid from the couch and got onto my knees, nosing at Harry's chest, licking at one of his pink, pebbled nipples. He whined. "Hell's Bells, Nathan!" Boss peeked at me from over one shaking shoulder, and smiled. It seemed he'd gotten used to this arrangement pretty quickly. "Stop it, not here. Molly might… school will be letting out soon. I told her to go to her house today, but she… she might not listen. Don't want her to see. Let me get dressed, and we can go back to… somewhere." He was hazy eyed, and I remembered something I'd read on some website that I'd been sure was illegitimate at the time, all because I knew Harry. Now knowing him was making me think that maybe it was true. It had been something about the sexual habits of wizards, how a lot of them were kinky as hell, and how they pretty much loved sex. It'd said that the ones that were wound the tightest were often the most pliant in bed, after the layers got stripped away. Harry gave a dizzy little smile, like a cat with a catnip mouse.

"Damn," I mumbled, and allowed him to stand up.

"Sorry. I get a little… giddy, sometimes, during things like this. Can't help it, don't even know why, all that. I'll sit in the backseat by myself on the way to wherever. Just in case." He needed to learn when to shut up. He really, really did. He hopped off of Boss' lap (revealing that he'd been enjoying the proceedings just as much as the two of us), and wandered into his bedroom, then came out in a fresh pair of jeans and another wrinkled t-shirt and pulled his retrieved duster back on over it all. We left the apartment, Mouse holding out a paw for both Boss and I to shake (which was really weird, but Gard had said the dog was smarter than some humans), and then we waited as Harry found Mister and allowed him inside, locked his door, and pulled his wards back up. We got into the car, and I went twenty miles over the speed limit the entire way back to Boss' apartment without even realizing it.

* * *

Boss nearly dragged him out of the car and inside, and I can admit that I raced along after them, grabbing at the hand Boss wasn't holding, feeling the slip-slide of his leather glove in my grip. I guessed I should just be glad that Morgan wasn't there, and that the only trace of him were a few blood spatters on the couch. Boss dragged us both into the apartment's bedroom with the single minded intensity only he could produce, and tossed Dresden onto the bed, me following not exactly willingly since I still had his other hand in mine. Still, I wasn't going to be passive about this. I dropped his hand and shifted the both of us so I could tug his duster off while Boss yanked his own suit jacket away and tossed it to some unspecified location I immediately stopped caring about. Harry fumbled at my t-shirt clumsily as Boss fumbled at his, and finally I heard the man curse, low and animal, then I heard the rip of fabric. We all paused. Harry's shirt was in two pieces, each on half hanging on his arms. He glared.

"You know, I liked that shirt." In the lull, he actually managed to get mine off of me, all in one piece.

"Too damn bad," Boss grumbled, and undid his own button down calmly, eyes fixed on Harry's heaving chest. I couldn't really blame him, though; I was sort of distracted by it too.

"You know, I could just walk out of here," he grumbled.

"You won't," I said, with more confidence than I felt. He laughed, and twisted around to yank Boss' pants off while I undid my own with shaky fingers. I hissed at the release of pressure, then helped him wiggle out of his own jeans. He shot me a grateful look and pulled off his boxers too, then sprawled out over the bed and looked at us from underneath his eyelashes. He couldn't hold the look for more than a few seconds without laughing, though. Of course he wouldn't be serious during this either. Shit. I shimmied out of my own boxers and watched Boss do the same, immediately crawl on top of the other man. He stopped laughing real quick, and his eyes fluttered shut as Boss ran a hand down his chest, teasingly soft. I grabbed my dick without noticing and stroked lazily as Harry arched up into the touch. Boss smirked, and tweaked one of his nipples harshly. A soft almost sigh slid from his mouth as he jerked his hips up into Boss' and startled a hiss out of him. Harry turned lust drunk dark eyes towards me suddenly.

"You coming, or are Johnny and me going to have all the fun?" Oh, fuck me sideways. I crept forwards as fast as I could, but the bed sunk deeply under my weight. I lost my balance halfway there and ended up falling across Boss' back. He collapsed on top of Harry and he grunted at the weight and then chuckled. I knew I was blushing again, because fuck. How goddamn awkward could I be? And in front of Boss. I scrambled off, and looked away as Boss regained his balanced and removed his weight from Harry's chest. Harry heaved a sigh, and I had the irrational thought that he was going to walk off. Instead, I felt a hand, insanely long, press into my chest and direct me to lie down beside Boss. "This might work better. I weigh less than you two," he snickered, and then kissed me hard enough I was sure both of our lips would be bruised.

"Sorry," I mumbled against his lips, "Didn't mean to crush you." He smiled, and kissed me again, this time softer, then wormed his way down our bodies, long and lithe as a snake. I saw Boss lick his lips as his head area reached our groins, and had a hard time resisting a moan just at the thought of getting another blowjob from him.

"S'no problem, Natey. Also, don't look so excited, I'm down here for John. You got yours last night. I can jerk you, or you can finger me or something. Whatever you want to do," he shrugged, and Boss' hips stuttered upwards suddenly, his eyes wide with shock. He spoke quickly, before Harry could shift properly between his legs and get his mouth on him. That was probably a good idea, honestly. I didn't think even Boss, controlled as he was, could be totally cognizant during something like that.

"Finger him, Nathan," he grunted, and Harry swatted his thigh once, lightly.

"Don't order him around, asshole. He can do what he wants." That made me smile, a little, as I heaved myself up and worked my way behind him.

"Want to," I mumbled, "God, I want to." He looked over his shoulder, teasing smirk prominent on his face, bright light glittering in his eyes, and then he crouched onto his elbows so his that Boss' dick (bigger than I'd figured it would be, not that I ever really pictured it) was in his face and his ass was in the air. He wiggled it at me, and I groaned quietly. Boss was actually biting his lip a little, and it turned into the softest of groans when Harry bent down and took all of my Boss into his mouth. That was really unfair, by the way. He had to tease me about it. Whatever, though. I can get back at him later. Boss' hand burrowed into his hair and wrapped tightly, pulling gently. I heard Harry's quiet whimper as I sucked on three of my fingers, then slid one inside him. He gasped, softly, then jerked back against me. I felt my dick twitch at that, and couldn't help but drape myself over his back as I worked the finger into him, felt how he clenched and spasmed around me and wanted to feel that around other parts of my anatomy. Harry did something that had to be horribly sinful with his tongue because Boss thrust up suddenly, deep enough to make Harry choke for a second, then tugged his head off. Harry whined and I, admittedly impatient, slid another finger inside. His hips twitched, and he thrust up into nothing, slim body arching and writhing beautifully. I kept the scars covered, because I couldn't stand to see something that had hurt him when I was trying to make him happy. I stabbed my fingers into something that made him keen and smiled.

Boss had twisted around so that he was face to face with Harry again, and rubbed his thumbs into either side of his jaw. Harry was gasping for air as I scissored my fingers apart, stretched him wide so he'd be able to take me, and Boss kissed him, sweet, soft, gentle. Not a way I'd ever thought Boss would be able to kiss. Harry jerked back against my fingers as I hit that spot again, and I slid a third finger inside. He gave a sharp grunt of maybe-pain, but Boss took care of it, distracting him with another kiss, running a hand through the hair he'd earlier pulled, stroking the cock that was bobbing against his belly. I pressed soft, open mouthed kisses against the nape of his neck to help the process along, and he finally loosened again, so I could move the fingers. I made sure to keep hitting that spot, to keep him from hurting.

"When did you find out you wanted to do this with us?" Boss asked, meeting Harry's eyes with ease. The green was sharp, vibrant in a way it hadn't been in years, and intense. Harry was still panting, and when he spoke it was with a slight slur.

"This really the time to ask about that?"

"Yes." The word was so firm it made me pause for a second, but Harry jerking back against the intrusion to his body reminded me that hey, I had a job to do, and that job was not to stare at my Boss like he was insane. At least not right now. I twisted my fingers experimentally, like how a few girls I'd been with had liked it, and he moaned appreciatively. At another sharp look from Boss, the moan turned into words.

"I've been attracted to both of you ever since we met. Found out I had real life feelings for Nathan not too long after. Saw him… oh, Stones, do that again! I saw him rescuing some little boy I was after, as a favor to Nick. Plus he's the kind of guy I normally like anyway. Strong, loyal, smart. For you it was when I saw you with Amanda. Seeing that made you seem a hell of a lot more human." Boss nodded, eyes blazing, and kissed him over and over again, slow, lingering kisses I could never hope to reproduce. Harry jerked back against me steadily through it all, and groaned angrily when I finally pulled my fingers free. "Damn it, Nathan, why'd you stop?" he whined, looked over his shoulder at me with wide eyes and pouty, kiss red lips and fuck, the only way he could look any goddamn cuter was if he had one of those soot smudges on the end of his nose again.

"Stretched enough. You can take something else, now. Which one of us do you want?" He looked thoughtful for a second, then grinned.

"I dunno." I stared. Boss stared. I was hard as hell and growing annoyed. Boss was in a similar state. Dresden was laughing despite his hard on. "Why don't you two play rock paper scissors for it?" The really fucked up part is that I actually wanted to try. I smacked his ass and shook my head. I was spending too much time with the idiot.

"Can you take us both?" Boss asked. Harry and I both shuddered, full body, but his was accompanied with a really interesting twist of his hips that ground his ass up against my cock and I was going to stop paying attention to that, because it'd be really embarrassing if I came right now, before we even actually got anywhere.

"Probably. I'm a wizard; I can do, like, anything." He accompanied that sentence by lifting up one hand and wiggling it in a magical gesture. I almost expected him to yell 'alacazam' or something. Boss looked so terribly pleased with himself that I had the vague worry he'd been replaced by a fay or something. Like I said, I was spending too much time with Harry. It was horrible on my paranoia. Of course, the fact that he'd kept up his incessant grinding wasn't too awful good on my heart. I was twitching and shuddering against him and I hadn't even gotten inside yet. Shit.

"Wonderful. Nathan first, then, as he's larger than I am." It was almost weird, hearing Boss acknowledge that. Harry twisted and shoved my chest gently, to get me to get up, then straddled my lap facing me. I guessed he'd discovered how much I didn't like seeing his body marked so cruelly, so hatefully. Thoughts of that fled pretty fast when he sank down onto me, though. He flung his head back, long, pale throat bared, and came abruptly with a scream, splattering onto both of our chests. I heard the worrying sound of light bulbs exploding, along with a hasty end to the random electric buzzes that were common in apartment buildings, yet completely unnoticeable until they were no longer there. I bit the juncture of his neck and shoulder and his whole body jerked and twitched in my hold, pliant and boneless. He was still half hard even after all that, even after I'd had to dig my nails into his hips and concentrate hard to avoid coming at just how tight he suddenly grew around me. He almost felt too hot around me, in my hands, as though he were full of the element he so favored. I saw Boss lazily twisting a hand around his dick beside us. Harry finally relaxed some, slouching against my shoulder, but seemed to notice I was still out of it, so he began to bounce himself up and down on me. I groaned pathetically and did my best to help, and then there was something thin inside Harry beside me, thrusting in counterpoint. Boss' fingers, my mind supplied. Two, from what I could tell.

Harry slumped weakly against me, and I could feel him growing hard again. Some stamina. Maybe it was a wizard thing. The feeling of Boss' fingers wiggling beside my cock was strange and foreign, but not unwelcome. It made Harry even tighter (which I'd thought was impossible), until it was actually almost painful and a little hard to move, but that was just… I moaned into his neck, higher than I'd like to admit to. I'd thought I was done with my voice cracking after I finished with puberty. I don't think I'd ever been so embarrassed when I was in bed with someone than I was during this foray. Figured Harry would be the one to do it. The fingers pressed against me, too soft to actually offer any real fulfillment and too hard to be considered a tease. I jerked into Harry harder, and hit that spot that made him keen and grow totally hard again. Fuck, but I couldn't do that even when I was a teenager. Another of Boss' fingers wiggled inside, and Harry jerked down, forcing me into that spot again and forcing Boss to stretch him wider. Boss, apparently trying to torture all three of us, put in a fourth finger and separated them as much as he could. Harry, by now, was nearly crying into my shoulder as he reached down to jerk himself. Boss swatted his hand away.

"Hell's Bells, John, if you don't get your dick in me right fucking now, I swear I will put it there myself. You've stretched me plenty, I'll be fine," he grunted, but the words lost a lot of their effect, considering the fact that he was flushed pink and impaled on my dick. I picked him up and dropped him down again to emphasize his position to him. He whined in response, and I felt the teasing, stretching fingers leave to be replaced with a blunt, solid pressure beside me. Boss shifted so he was facing Harry's back, his legs stretched out so his feet were by my hip, and I lifted Harry a little, so as to make it easier for all of us. When Boss started to slide inside, Harry's back arched, taut as a bowstring, and his mouth fell open in a silent, shuddering scream. His thigh muscles were twitching, as he settled on top of us, all of us breathing hard, desperate. "Don't move. I swear to god, if either of you move, I'll kill you." I believed him, and so held myself distinctly, purposefully still. The room was silent but for our ragged breathing. The pressure, the heat around me was insane, like nothing I'd ever felt before. I could feel Boss' pulse through his dick, thrumming beside mine deep inside our wizard, who'd now fallen backwards, his back against Boss' chest, in a way I was pretty sure relieved some of the ache of having us both inside him.

To calm him down, I ran a gentle hand up his side, smirking as the muscle fluttered ticklishly, then slid them back down again to rub soft circles into his hips. Boss had started teasing his nipples again, until they were red and tender looking, as he mouthed at his neck, creating a mark on that side to match the one I'd bitten into the other. I slid down to twist at his slightly flagging erection, and after what seemed like hours of the torturous waiting, he shifted on us, a slight bounce of his hips. He whimpered. Boss took that as his cue, and took his hips, his fingers overlapping mine as we thrust into him, in counterpoint with one another. It honestly seemed to be driving him to the brink of madness, if the way he thrashed and yelled and feverishly jerked himself was any indication. I slipped up and accidentally went in him at the same time as Boss, and he went crazy, yelling loud enough I was sure the neighbors would complain. Too damn bad for them. He came again, and fell forward; pressing his lips to mine wetly, our teeth clacking angrily together, as he clenching around us both instinctually, and I came too, his body milking me dry. I moved my arms to wrap around him, pull him into a small hug, but Boss was still going, snarling, all animal, desperately placing marks on every part of Harry's skin he could reach.

Harry did what he could to help him along, pressing back against Boss' thrusts where he could as I softened and slipped out, mumbling soft, over-sensitized encouragements that hypes Boss up higher and higher until he finally came too, his face twisting into a snarling, euphoric mask until it was almost unrecognizable and releasing a sound that could hardly be called human. That noise actually put my dick into a valiant battle to harden again, but I was, quite honestly, spent. Boss slid out too and Harry slumped weakly between us, shuddering periodically and sort of giggling. I could feel our come leaking out of him.

"Clean me up, slaves," he mumbled sleepily, an annoyed little pout pulling at his lips. Shit, he'd probably kill me if he knew I thought he was pouting, but it was damned hard to be scared of him when he looked like… like that. Boss huffed out a tired, sated laugh, and helped me lay him down on the bed. He grunted happily, and Boss stood on legitimately shaky legs to get something to clean us all up with. He handed me something to wipe down his abdomen with, and worked on his ass himself, which was probably a good idea. Boss was better at handling delicate stuff like that. Besides, I couldn't complain, because Boss being down there meant I got all the sated, sex-drunk Harry kisses.

"I'll use my mouth for this, next time," Boss promised, voice low and velvet smooth. I could admit to being a little jealous that he could pull off talking like that. I generally just ended up sounding stupid. Harry let out a content little sigh.

"That's very hot and all, but I'm too tired to get an erection right now. Tell me that again in a few hours and maybe we'll talk." Hot damn. I really, really wanted to watch that, fuck. I shook my head and cleaned myself off, then went to drop the soft white rag back in the bathroom. Boss followed soon after. When we got back, Harry was already asleep, snoring softly. Boss chuckled and I grinned as we climbed into the bed beside him, each of us slinging an arm over him to settle our fingers on each other's hip. I don't know about Boss, but I was dead to the world pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.


	9. Chapter 9

I woke up to Harry smacking me harshly upside the head. I grunted angrily, and pried my eyes open, even though sleep had crusted them mostly shut, and scrubbed them roughly to clear them. Harry had his arms crossed over his pale chest, and he was glaring. Boss, on his other side, was in a similar state to me. Apparently he'd received the same wake up call. I scratched my head and focused my gaze on him. He was perched carefully, his ass raised slightly up from the bed so it wouldn't touch anything. I winced, developing suspicions of just what was wrong with him. They were confirmed when he spoke up.

"Stars and Stones, I hate both of you. You didn't have to be so rough about it last night. My ass hurts." I felt bad for him, yeah, but I had to laugh. He snarled at me. "Dick. Both of you are dicks." Boss sat up onto his elbows, and goddamn, but he was fit. I wondered if I'd be able to look that good, when I was however old he was. I hoped so.

"My apologies, Harry. You must, however, remember that you were quite emphatic that you could take it. You haven't got much right to complain now." It was silent for a few seconds. I thought I might have heard crickets. And then Harry's eyes went sharply narrow.

"Do you like this apartment, Marcone?" he asked, and his lip twitched in a tiny grin he tried hard to hide, "Do you really? Because you're not acting much like you don't want it set on fire. It wouldn't be that hard for me to evacuate the building before I did it, either, and this is the Gold Coast. They can afford new buildings. And besides, you own this building. It's your insurance premiums that will suffer." Boss cocked his head a little, and smiled, gentle and small, then stroked Harry's head.

"Settle down. Get comfortable, and Nathan and I will retrieve you something to eat, alright? You can lie around for the day." Harry sighed, and pressed his head into Boss' palm as I patted his thigh and received a small smile.

"Fine. Not all day, though, I've got work to do. And Mister and Mouse will be hungry." We nodded, and he wiggled around until he found a position that was apparently suitable. Boss and I staggered out of the bed and into our clothes, then entered the kitchen. There were shattered light bulbs all over the ground. I kept myself distinctly calm as I cleaned and replaced them, because damn it, if sex with Harry was always that good, I could deal with sweeping up light bulb fragments 'til kingdom come. Discovering that the large flat screen in the living area was fried after every time, well, that might start to become an issue. I guessed Boss or me could buy a secluded cabin in the woods or something, because there was no way in hell we could do this at Harry's place.

Anyway, after the messes were all cleaned up, I started grabbing the supplies for making breakfast, expecting Boss to leave, like he normally did, so I could cook in peace. Instead, he stood determinedly beside me, pulling out random shit that could serve no conceivable purpose in making an average breakfast, such as a packet of pork chops and a tiny jar of lavender.

"Boss. What the hell are you doing?" He gave me that blank look he usually reserved for Harry when he thought he was doing something suicidally insane, which was more often than was strictly healthy.

"Cooking," he said, enunciating clearly and slowly. I nodded just as slowly.

"Uh huh. So you want to have pork and lavender for breakfast? I was thinking more bacon and eggs, or pancakes. You know, stuff people eat for breakfast." He glanced down at what he'd pulled out as though he'd never seen if before, and then nodded, putting them away. Everybody, my Boss running on little sleep and likely coming off something of a hangover.

"Pancakes. Harry likes them."

"Okay. You wanna go sit down or something, so I can cook?" He shook his head, and his eyes were solid with determination. I hated it when he got that look. He'd never tried to cook before, damn it! Why was he choosing to do it now, when Dresden was in the house? Did he want to start off this relationship by rushing him out of a burning building? Of course, knowing Dresden, that might be some kind of proposal, but still. It's the principal of it.

"No. I will remain here an assist you, as I said that we would both prepare him something to eat." I heaved a sigh.

"I can make pancakes by myself, Boss. I do it often enough." He shrugged.

"It'll get done faster with the two of us." I really didn't feel like arguing the illogic of that, so instead I just decided it'd be best to go with it and hope Boss didn't give Harry food poisoning. He's a pretty amazing man, yeah, but cooking was not one of his talents in any way, shape, or form. "What would you like me to do?" I rattled off a list of what I'd need, deciding there were very few ways in which he could fuck that up, while I go a mixing bowl, something to pour with, and a pan ready to go. Boss broke three eggs before he finally managed to get me some, and spilled milk all over the floor. He also spilled something sticky that looked like soda, but he doesn't even keep soda in any of his houses. I didn't question it, because damn it, it's Boss.

I mixed everything together and poured it. I let Boss flip one and it ended up on the floor, where it got stuck to the sticky whatever that had been spilled on the floor. I gave Boss a look that I hoped conveyed my amazement, then hip checked him out of the way so I could finish the food. He looked idiotically forlorn that he couldn't manage the task, and I sighed.

"I'll start giving you cooking lessons." He smiled happily, and nodded as I plated our breakfast and wandered back into the apartment's bedroom. Boss followed after me, and opened the door for me.

"Thank you, Nathan." That made me pause for a second. Boss almost always gave me looks, or a pat on the shoulder, or something like that to let me know he was grateful, or happy with me. He hardly ever actually said the words 'thank you' to me. His hand brushed mine when he took one of the plates I was holding and handed it to Harry, who grinned brightly. Huh. I shook my head and sat down with the other two plates, passing one to Boss and keeping the other for myself. Harry shoved some into his mouth, then his eyes went wide and he smiled a toothy, pancake-filled smile.

"Natey. You are a god. Like, a literal pancake god. I would bow to you, if I wasn't shoving pancakes into my mouth." If I didn't know Boss better, I'd have said he pouted at the rush of pride I suddenly got. Admittedly, I probably did look pretty insufferable just then, but hell, I was still a little tired, and it wasn't like Harry complimenting me was a super common occurrence. Plus, when he usually did it, he just sort of slipped it in. This was an obvious, happy compliment, and I couldn't help but grin at it.

"I helped," Boss finally grunted. Oh, holy shit. He sounded like a petulant toddler! Harry stared at him, blank faced, as though trying to get him to break. Boss didn't.

"John. You dropped shit on the floor a lot. I'm pretty sure that's it." How the hell did he…

"How do you know?"

"I've got good ears. Talent I've picked up over the years, you know. Plus you were cussing up a storm about it, once. Also, I don't think it's possible for someone to fit thirty eggs and a gallon of milk up their ass. And I don't think it would be legal for you to shove the head of the anatomical anomaly that maybe could up there with those cooking products and use your knife to keep it there. But then again, I don't think much you want to do with a knife is legal, so whatever." Boss actually looked away for a few seconds. Apparently it was no problem that I'd heard that particular digression in its entirety, but knowing Harry had heard even a portion of it seemed to make him want to curl up and die. Or at least that was what I got from him looking away. By this point, I sort of equated him showing the slightest morsel of shame with a regular person combusting because they were blushing so hard. Or, in Harry's case, combusting something else. I shook my head a little, and glanced down at Harry's plate. There was half a pancake left. I'd made him three. Goddamn.

"As though you could do better," Boss said. I wondered if I'd somehow managed to tumble ass over head into the Twilight Zone. I wouldn't be surprised if everything froze around me I suddenly heard Rod Serling doing a voiceover. Nathan Hendricks awoke that fateful morning expecting his two mates to snark at one another like always. Instead, he found his Boss roleplaying as an annoying little kid, and his Wizard being surprisingly calm about it. In his dreams last night, it seems he took a left turn and woke up in… the Twilight Zone.

"Actually, oh Mighty Master of Chicago Slash Criminal Scumbag of Wonder and Amazement and Also Copious Amounts of Annoying, I can. Admittedly, not on a gas stove, but that would be because I've never been quite brave enough to risk a gas main explosion." Harry actually held his hands out in a worshipful pose for that entire oh mighty whatever spiel, that wonderful man. If anyone asked why I loved him, I'd be certain to mention his wit and class. He shoved the remaining half a pancake into his mouth. I'd have to mention his ability to do that, too. He stretched, then winced, his hand slapping down on the angry red-purple bruise on his right shoulder. I couldn't remember if that was mine or Boss'. "Assholes, the both of you. I swear." I grinned.

"You love us though." He smirked back at me.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." He paused for a minute, then spoke again. "But you were both really warm, which did make me happy, so yeah, why not. I love you guys." Boss put his own plate aside and stretched up to grab Harry by the middle and pull him down against his chest. Harry squawked indignantly, then snorted and stilled, stretching up give Boss an awkward, almost upside down kiss. I crawled over so I covered them both like a blanket, then kissed Harry and Boss in return. We stayed that way for a few minutes, but he eventually nudged me off and pulled Boss' arms free from around his waist. I caught sight of his back. It was clear, and I had to grin. When Boss asked me what at, I just pointed, and he joined in my glee. Once more the only mark that marred the pale expanse of his back was the long, white thing running parallel to his spine. He turned around and raised his eyebrows at us. "What's so funny, tweedle dee and tweedle dum?"

"Your scars are gone. It seems that DuMorne is dead," Boss said clearly, and I could detect a hint of savage joy in his voice, hiding beneath his Gentleman façade. Harry laughed, and it was sharp and high, clear as a bell.

"Council works fast. This is the first time I've ever been happy about that. Fucker deserves it. He'll burn for real this time," he growled, and there was pride covering his words like gravy. I lunged forward to hug him again, tackling him down to the bed, and Boss joined in the dog pile. It was exceedingly entertaining when we both attempted to kiss him at once. It also culminated in Harry not going to do that work he had planned, as well as skipping my classes that day. I'd get dirty looks from my professors when I came back, but fuck it; it was, quite honestly, worth it.

What we had going on was weird as hell, and probably unstable, and probably dangerous, and probably stupid, and improbable, and a bunch of other words that pretty much described Harry in a nutshell. I liked it, though. Boss liked it. Harry certainly liked it. I didn't see much point in attempting to fix something that, quite obviously, wasn't broken. If anyone didn't like it, well, Harry's a wizard, and he doesn't realize there are other elements in the world besides fire. Boss is damn good with a knife. I'm not too shabby with a gun. They could take it up with us.


End file.
